Let the Stars Watch
by a-moments-grace
Summary: Feyre is on the verge of many new things in her life: a new job, new city, new apartment. All of those things she's ready for. What she's not quite expecting, though, are her new neighbors. Especially not the one with the violet eyes.
1. Chapter 1

"Let's let the stars watch  
Let them stare  
Let the wind eavesdrop  
I don't care  
For all that we've got, don't let go  
Just hold me."

\- _Eavesdrop_ by The Civil Wars

Feyre is on the verge of many new things in her life: a new job, new city, new apartment. All of those things she's ready for. What she's not quite expecting, though, are her new neighbors. Especially not the one with the violet eyes.

A/N: This is my first attempt at ACOTAR fanfiction. Thank you to everyone who has read and reviewed; it means so much to hear your lovely comments. I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I'm enjoying writing it.

***Chapter One***

"That's the last box," Nesta said with a sigh, setting said box down on a stack of others.

Feyre looked around the apartment, smiling slightly. "Thanks." She let out her own huff of breath before saying, "I'm really not looking forward to unpacking it all."

Nesta smirked, "You're on your own with that one, sis."

"But we'll happily help you throw a housewarming party if you'd like!" Elain's voice sounded from the doorway to the bedroom. After a moment, she appeared. "I've at least got your bed set up, Feyre. You won't have to sleep on the couch tonight."

Feyre smiled at her sisters, "Really, thank you both."

Elain shrugged, "Our pleasure. It's not every day our sister graduates from University and moves out onto her own."

"The extra space at home will be nice, though," Nesta quipped, but she was grinning.

There was a quiet moment as the three of them surveyed the bare rooms. Feyre was thankful for her sisters and all they'd done to help her get through the last few years. Finally, she'd graduated with her Masters in Psychology and had just accepted a job in the city. She was nervous - this was the first big move in her life - but she was ready.

After their father had died the year before, the girls found themselves closer than ever. As teens, they were usually at each other's throats. Now, though, they did what that could to take care of one another, they spent a lot of time hanging out together, and at times they had a lot of fun. Feyre would miss living with her sisters, but she wanted to be closer to her job. And, perhaps, it was time for a change.

"We have to get going, Fey. Call us if you need anything!" Elain gave her sister a long hug, kissing her cheek quickly. "Love you."

"Thanks, Lain." Feyre hugged Nesta next. "You, too, Ness."

"Lock the door behind us, will you? I saw some shady neighbors eyeing you while we were moving." Nesta gave Feyre a stern look as the two older sisters stepped into the hallway.

"Got it." She saluted. "I'll call you two after my first day, let you know how it goes." Waiving as they descended the stairs, Feyre let out a deep sigh. She closed the door - and locked it - before sliding down the wooden portal to sit with a thud on the floor.

The place was small but cozy; a simple one-bedroom. The front door opened to a small foyer where there was a coat hook and some storage. The bathroom was off to the right just inside the door, and the living room opened up in front of her, leading on into the kitchen. There was floor to ceiling windows that looked over a courtyard. Feyre thought it looked like a fantastic place to sit and read, or perhaps paint. Just past the bathroom was a small hallway that led to the bedroom. That was probably her favorite spot. There was a half-french door that opened to a small balcony just off the bedroom, and it overlooked the city as it swept down the hill. At night, the lights of the other apartments and shops danced around the walls in her room, sparkling like stars.

Right now, though, the place just looked empty and like a lot of work. Boxes were stacked everywhere, covering most of her furniture. Feyre was not looking forward to unpacking it all.

"Damn…" she huffed, rubbing her hands down over her face. Her stomach grumbled loudly, so she pulled out her cell phone and searched for take-out places that delivered. Scrolling down, she picked the closest one. "Thai food it is," she announced. Her empty apartment didn't answer back.

After ordering, she moved into the kitchen to start unpacking.

Slowly, box by box, the room began to come to life. The kitchen was perhaps the easiest - everything had a neat place on a shelf or in a drawer. She would have to go out tomorrow and get groceries, she thought, looking at the empty refrigerator as it hummed quietly next to her. There was a bottle of water, from the move, but other than the Thai food that was on its way, there was nothing to eat in this apartment. That would not work for Feyre.

The dishes were all put away, as were the silverware and glasses. The last box to open was filled with the little knick-knacks and such that would add a little color to the room. First, photos to put on the fridge. Then, her salt and pepper shakers, shaped like hugging foxes; those were from Elain and they always made Feyre smile. Other small decorations put the final touches on the small kitchen, and that was one room off the list.

Just the rest of the apartment to go.

Thankfully, there was a knock on the door signaling the arrival of dinner.

She stood with a groan, wiping her hands down her pants before grabbing her wallet from the counter.

When she opened the door, Feyre's eyes were on her wallet, pulling bills. "Thank gods you arrived. I'm starv-" her words cut off abruptly as she took in the man standing before her, not at all what she was expecting.

He was gorgeous.

And he certainly didn't look like any delivery boy Feyre had ever seen. Dark, silky hair curled slightly over his forehead, framing a tanned face. Deep violet eyes came next, a color unlike any she had ever seen before. A color she desperately wanted to paint. His was probably the most beautiful man she'd laid eyes on, and everything below his face was just a nice to look at, too. Sculpted shoulders were wrapped in a tight, black cotton t-shirt that tapered down to his waist and legs, clad in dark jeans. He was barefoot.

A noise startled Feyre, and she looked up quickly.

There was a smirk on his face as he held out a brown paper bag, clearing his throat before speaking. "You'll catch flies that way, darling," he drawled.

Feyre snapped her mouth shut, a blush creeping up her neck. This was so embarrassing.

He chuckled, holding the bag up again. "I think this is supposed to be yours, but it got delivered to my place." He motioned behind him to a door that stood ajar across the landing from Feyre's.

"Oh," she breathed. "Thank you." There was something thrilling about that doorway, Feyre thought, and then she mentally shook herself for being such a girl. Her blue eyes met those violet ones again which were sparkling with wicked delight. If possible, her blush deepened.

"Are you going to take the bag?" He asked, that smirk still on his pretty face.

"Oh gods," Feyre moaned. "Yes, thank you. How much was it?" She grabbed the bag from him, their fingers brushing in just the tiniest of touches, but it sent a shiver down her body nonetheless.

His own eyes widened a little at the contact, but he recovered smoothly. "This one is on me," he said, that damn smirk still on his lips.

"You don't have to do that." Some of her senses were returning, and Feyre again grabbed for the money in her wallet.

Her neighbor stepped back, his hands up in the air so she couldn't hand him the cash. "I want to," he said with another grin. Then, he turned and took the few steps back toward his apartment. Before he entered the door though, he looked over his shoulder and said, "you can get the next one." And then he was gone.

"Mother above," Feyre groaned, stepping back into her own apartment and leaning heavily against the door. "That man is lethal." And then a thought occurred to her - she didn't even ask his name. Another groan, "Oh, Feyre, you're such an idiot."

The smell of Thai food wafted up from the bag in her hands and he stomach grumbled loudly.

At least she wouldn't go hungry.

* * *

~*~ _Rhys_ ~*~

" _You can get the next one?_ " A mocking voice met Rhys's ears as he walked back through his apartment door. He cringed and threw his roommate and best friend a sheepish grin.

"That was bad, wasn't it?" He asked Cassian as he closed the door and leaned against it.

The other man let out a huff of laughter, grinning wildly. "It sounds like something I would say."

"Damn...it was really bad, then." Rhys smiled when he saw the finger Cassian sent his way. The brute still had a devilish grin on his face, though.

The two of them had been friends since they were children, along with Azriel, the third to their trio of misfits. They'd grown up together - in all the ways that counted, they were brothers - and Rhys couldn't imagine having anyone else guard his back. They'd been through hell and back, these three, and would stay that way until the end. All three of them worked together at Rhys's father's business, Seren Construction. Cassian and Rhys shared an apartment, and Azriel stayed over often enough he might as well have lived there, too, so the boys were usually always together. Which meant their noses were quite often in each other's business.

Like now.

"Told you she was a looker."

Rhys stepped farther into the room and headed toward the kitchen. He needed a drink. A strong one. "Pardon me for not trusting your taste in women, Cass. Your track record leaves a little to be desired." He poured a generous amount of Scotch into two glasses, bringing one over to Cassian. "But you were right."

Cassian clinked his glass against Rhys's, throwing the drink back in one long swallow. "Think she'll ever talk to you again?"

Rhys's mind flashed back to the look on her face as her eyes traveled down his body, the blush on her cheeks when he caught her staring. He grinned. "I think so."

"Twenty bucks says she avoids you until Friday."

Rhys didn't even hesitate. "Fifty says she not only talks to me before Friday, but she buys me dinner, too."

There was a glint in Cassian's eyes as he said, "Deal," and shook Rhys's outstretched hand.

"Did I just hear a bet being made?" Another voice sounded down the hallway, followed shortly by Azriel as he stepped into the living room. "What mess am I going to need to clean up this time?"

Cassian slapped Rhys on the back. Hard. "Nothing. Just lover boy over here putting the moves on our new neighbor. I bet him she would avoid him until Friday."

"That the girl with the sisters? The apartment across the hall?" Azriel pointed toward the door, staring as if he could see through to the other side.

"How do you know they're sisters?" Cassian's gaze followed Azriel's as the other man shrugged.

"They all looked alike. It's not hard to guess." At the look both men were giving him, he amended, "and I heard them talking with the superintendent this morning when they picked up her keys." He dropped down onto the couch and sprawled his arms across the back.

Cassian chuckled, "You're such a little gossip and spy."

Azriel ignored him. "You talked to the new girl?" His question was directed at Rhys.

Rhys took his own seat in an armchair, resting his head back against the cool leather and closing his eyes. "I brought her her takeout." He didn't even need to look to know Azriel's eyebrow was raised in a silent question. "It was delivered here accidentally, I swear."

Cassian erupted in laughter again. "That's a damn good idea though, Az. Grabbing food from the delivery boy to have a reason to chat up the neighbor."

Rhys groaned. "Now look what you've done. You're giving him ideas."

Azriel waved the suggestion away with a hand. "He doesn't need my help making an ass of himself, Rhys. You know that." He also ignored the finger Cassian sent his way. "I want to hear more about the new girl."

Rhys lifted his head and opened his eyes slowly. He blinked once. Twice. Then, a small grin slid onto his face. "She's…"

"Hot," Cassian supplied, finishing Rhys's statement.

Rhys wasn't exactly sure what he would have said, anyway, so he shrugged instead. She was certainly beautiful, and he felt his face getting a little warm at the memory of how her t-shirt seemed to cling in all the right places and the v-neck dipped just so. Even sweaty and disheveled from moving all day hadn't done much to hide how attractive she was. At least, how attractive Rhys found her.

This time, when he caught sight of Azriel's raised eyebrow he answered, "She's intriguing."

His brother studied him for a few minutes from across the room. He seemed to be weighing that answer carefully. Then, with a glance at Cassian and a matching feral grin, he asked, "How much to get in on this bet?"

Rhys groaned at the same time that Cassian let out a loud bark of laughter.


	2. Chapter 2

Something hard was digging into her back and Feyre tried to wriggle away from it, sleep still tempting to drag her under. Moving seemed to make it worse, though, so she rolled over only to crash loudly to the floor. With a screech, she sat up wildly, flailing her arms and searching the room.

She was certainly awake now.

And she was sitting on the floor of her living room, still in her clothes from last night. Empty boxes sat piled in one corner of the room, and half-full boxes were open in front of her. She must have fallen asleep on the couch, which would explain the terrible crick in her neck and the ache in her back. Sure enough, when she looked over at the couch there was her box of paints shoved mostly under the back cushions, the sharp corner jutting out.

She rubbed her back carefully, letting out a long sigh. "Damn…"

Her mind raced a little as she tried to wake up. It was Sunday. She was in her new apartment in the city. Her sisters had helped her moved most of the day yesterday, and she had spent most of her night unpacking because she couldn't quite stand the clutter and boxes. The bedroom and bathroom had all been done after she'd had dinner, and the living room was the last space left.

The thought of dinner sent her stomach gurgling with hunger. It also sent a blush to her cheeks as she remembered her surprise delivery man. She swatted the air in front of her face as if she could shoo the embarrassment away like so many flies. It wasn't her most graceful first encounter, but she was too hungry to dwell on it for long.

She needed to go grocery shopping, and she needed to do it soon.

With a groan, she stood.

Thirty minutes later, Feyre was showered and dressed, feeling much better than she had earlier. She'd braided her hair back, donned her favorite summery dress, and slipped into her comfy sandals. As she grabbed her wallet from the kitchen counter and started toward the door, something caught her eye.

Laying in her foyer, just beyond the door, was a slip of paper.

She eyed it warily before picking it up with two fingers. Shaking it open, she read the words scrawled in a neat hand.

In spite of herself, Feyre laughed.

Then, she tucked the note into her wallet, grabbed her shopping bags, and strode out the door. She let herself take one quick glance across the landing, but the door was closed and no light came from underneath. Mentally shaking herself, she locked her own door and made her way down the two flights and into the street.

She had been to the city before - on holiday with her sisters once, and again when she was searching for jobs. Those few visits, though, hadn't seemed enough. She was enchanted by all the sights and sounds and smells of the city. It was alive with color and light, and full of interesting people to watch. She tried not to stare openly, gawking like a tourist, but she couldn't quite help herself at times.

It was all so incredible.

She had only been able to explore a little, finding a cute little cafe that served coffees and teas along with breakfast sandwiches. She'd been able to appease her hunger but not her itch to see more of the city. Unfortunately, her empty refrigerator was in need of filling and that took precedence over her desire to search the metropolis.

Later, though. She would definitely explore later.

Back and arms aching, she trudged up the two flights of stairs to her apartment. She was weighed down by shopping bags nearly overflowing. A taxi had taken her most of the way home, but now she was struggling to make it upstairs without dropping everything she'd just purchased. It wasn't an easy trek.

"Here, let me help," a voice sounded behind her, and Feyre jumped nearly out of her skin.

"Mother above!" She yelped, her bags swinging wildly as she turned to see just who was offering to help. Hands, calloused and rough, snatched at a bag that was in peril of spilling, saving her oranges from flying everywhere.

A tall man stood behind her, shadows covering half of his face in the dark hallway. She could see dark hair that was cropped fairly short, and a matching grin that she found strangely familiar. Before she could say anything, the stranger reached out his hands and took a few more of the bags from Feyre, his eyes sparkling with suppressed laughter.

"I didn't mean to startle you." His smile softened a little, and Feyre thought he might look a little embarrassed. "I'm Azriel. I believe you met my best friend, Rhysand, last night."

Feyre's eyes widened at the name. "Oh, um, yes. Hi." So there was something familiar. She wondered if they were related.

Azriel started up the stairs, breaking Feyre from her thoughts. "I saw you struggling with your bags and I thought I would help. I'm sorry I scared you."

She wasn't quite sure where her voice had gone, but she found herself a bit tongue-tied. It only got worse when they came to the top of the stairs and there was another person, a very large man, in fact, standing just outside their apartment door. He, too, had dark hair and a complexion much like Rhys and Azriel. His hair, though, was pulled back into a bun, and he was even taller and larger than the other two. The shit-eating grin on his face was filled with mischief, too.

Her mouth moved before her brain could process her words. "Cauldron, just how many hulking men are there living here?"

Azriel's chuckle had her blushing, but really, if another tall-dark-and-handsome popped out of the darkness she was going to believe she'd lost her mind. "Just us three," he answered.

Feyre stepped around Azriel so she could get to her door, the landing seeming much smaller with the three of them all standing there. "I'm Feyre," she said to the brute by the other door.

"Cassian," he supplied, still grinning.

She eyed him carefully, then turned to look at Azriel who was also smiling. "Why do I get the feeling that I'm missing something here?"

"What gives you that idea?" It was Cassian who asked.

Her eyebrow lifted slightly as she said, "the crazy-stupid grins on your faces, for one." She finally pushed open her door and entered her apartment, dropping the bags from her hands in the small foyer. She sent a quick glance to Azriel and he followed suit. "And you're standing here in the shadows like creeps."

Another bark of laughter came from the big guy, and Feyre couldn't help but smile, too.

"I've been meaning to tell the super to fix the hallway light," Azriel's voice sounded to Feyre's right and he stepped up next to her. "It's not usually so dark in here." He gave her a sidelong glance, "and I swear that Cassian is the one up to no good. I was just being neighborly and helping you with groceries."

Feyre made a noise of disbelief, although she did agree that Cassian seemed to be up to no good. Really, he wouldn't stop grinning at her. As odd as the situation was, though, she felt comfortable enough with her new neighbors. Cassian's bulk notwithstanding, he so far presented as being quite goofy. And Azriel, with his smoldering amber eyes, had a careful, gentle manner that put her at ease almost instantly.

"Do you both live there?" She pointed to the door across the landing from hers.

Azriel shook his head, shrugging slightly. "Cassian and Rhys live there. I just visit."

"Ha! By visit, he means there's a permanent Azriel shape molded into the couch." Cassian crossed his arms over his immense chest, still grinning madly.

"And...you just stand in the hallway for fun? Or is this some weird welcoming committee?" She glanced between the two men, teasing, but not quite able to get over this odd meeting.

Taking his cue, Azriel took the few steps to Cassian's side and turned the other man around so he faced their door. "Point taken, Feyre. It was really nice to meet you." He shoved, and Feyre was impressed to see that Cassian moved as Azriel directed.

"I'll tell Rhys you said 'hello!'" Cassian called over his shoulder, and Feyre was glad that the door shut behind him and he couldn't see the blush that suddenly stained her cheeks.

Shaking her head, she went into her apartment and grabbed her grocery bags so she could start unpacking. Now that her kitchen would be stocked, she was beginning to feel much more at home.

Not to mention the interesting neighbors.

* * *

~*~ _Rhys_ ~*~

His right foot throbbed painfully, his back ached terribly, his knee was acting up again, and the thing he wanted most in the world right now was a long, hot shower. To get to that shower, though, he needed to scale the two flights of stairs now in front of him, and Rhys wasn't quite sure he could make the trek.

This had been a day from hell.

With a long-suffering sigh, he started up the stairs, one miserable step at a time. His foot, pulsing in time with his heartbeat in his boot, had been crushed under a falling cinder block earlier today. Some idiot teenager who had never worked a fork-lift before had knocked over a stack, and Rhys hadn't been able to get out of the way quite fast enough. The steel-toe of his work boots had done some to stop the damage, but the swelling and black and purple color indicated he'd be hurting for quite a while.

The three hours at the emergency room had also confirmed broken metatarsals in the middle of his foot. They'd shoved him into a walking-boot - a cast wouldn't do much, really. Other than rest and keeping off of his feet, there wasn't much that could be done for a broken foot. They'd also given him some pain meds, crutches, and strict instructions to stay out of work for at least six weeks.

Yes, this day needed to be over. Quickly.

Sucking in a deep breath, Rhys kept carefully placing one foot in front of the other. He couldn't really weight-bear, but crutches were nearly useless on stairs. So, it was one labored step at a time.

By the time he reached the landing to his apartment, he was sweating profusely and in incredible amounts of pain.

He threw a quick glance across the hall, but his new neighbor's door stood solid and dark. A light crept from underneath, but it was silent. Anyway, he desperately needed to get off of his feet and get a stiff drink in his hand. Flirting with the pretty girl across the way could wait.

With a bit more noise than he intended, Rhys threw the door open to his apartment and almost tumbled inside. The crutches went spilling from his hands, and he dropped his work boot on the floor in the entryway.

"Mother above, Rhys, you look like shit." Cassian stooped to grab the fallen crutches, giving his friend the once-over. "I told you I would get you from the hospital."

Rhys waved him away. "There wasn't any need, really. Not much you can do."

"I could have helped you up the stairs, you martyr." Cassian's tone was harsh, but the look on his face was full of concern. "You really should get off that foot."

Azriel scooted around the bigger man and stood next to Rhys, wrapping an arm around his brother's waist and sliding Rhys's arm over his shoulder. "Here, let me help."

While it pained him a little to do so, Rhys leaned on his friend and let him half-carry him into the apartment and over to the couch.

"What's the official word?" Az asked as he propped the injured appendage on a pillow.

"Broken metatarsals. I'm off the foot for six weeks, at least. They don't think I'll need surgery, though." Rhys leaned his head back against the sofa cushions, wincing at the throb radiating from his foot.

"Shit, Rhys." With a drink in each hand, Cassian came back in the room. He handed one to Rhys before taking a seat in the armchair across from the other two. "What's going to happen with the Uni project?"

"You'll have to take over. Az can manage the crews on-site," Rhys turned to Azriel, "if you don't mind." The other man shook his head, giving Rhys a half smile, so Rhys turned back to Cassian. "You'll need to cover the office and oversee everything. The good news is, though, the project is nearly finished so it's really just putting the final pieces in place."

Seren Construction, the company Rhys had inherited when his father had died, had been working on building a new addition to the local University. Rhys wasn't thrilled about not being there for the next three weeks, but he knew that Cassian and Azriel could manage things without him. They were his best friends, but they were also damn good workers and they cared about the business just as much as he did. Really, he didn't know where he would be without them.

"You've got it, Rhys. We'll handle it." Often times, Cassian could be a jokester, but Rhys trusted him with his life and he knew he meant every word.

"I can take calls and stuff from here if need be."

It was Azriel who waved him off this time. "Don't worry about it. Just get back on your feet as soon as possible."

Rhys raised his glass toward his friends, giving them a nod of thanks. He swallowed the rest of the scotch in one pull, letting out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding. Without asking, Cassian grabbed the glass and went to pour Rhys another drink.

With a glance over his shoulder, Cassian looked at Rhys as he poured. "What about our new neighbor?" he asked. Rhys quirked an eyebrow but said nothing. He was too tired, at the moment, to think much about the neighbor. "Time is running out on our little bet," Cassian nudged.

Sighing, Rhys lifted his head to look over at his friend - the one currently annoying him - and drawled, "It's been one day, Cassian."

"But I know her name," he crooned, his voice a sing-song taunt.

Really, Rhy was too tired for this. He waved his hand in Cassian's direction as if he could flick his fingers and make the man disappear. "Azriel, take him out drinking or something. I don't have it in me to deal with his shit." There was a lightness to his tone, hinting that he was joking, but also an exhaustion that everyone in the room heard.

"Shit, man, I'm just busting your balls. Don't kic-"

Azriel stood, abruptly cutting Cassion off, and began herding him for the second time that day. "I've called Mor. She said she'll stop by when she's out of work to see if you need anything."

With only a little protesting from Cassian, they were both out the door and Rhys was met with a sudden, welcome silence.


	3. Chapter 3

He flopped his head back against the couch and tried to adjust his position into a more comfortable one. If he were honest with himself, the pain in his foot was almost unbearable and he was worried about how long it would take before he was up and about again. While he knew that Cassian and Azriel could easily handle the business, he hated being away. He took pride in that business, how well he had managed things after his father's death, and he felt neglectful when he wasn't at the helm. That, and he couldn't quite imagine what he was going to do with himself for six weeks. Rhys was not a man who liked to sit still; This was likely going to drive him mad.

A noise at the door had him looking up just as Morrigan swept through into the living room. She always liked to make an entrance, even if there wasn't anyone there to see it.

"You look like shit," she proclaimed, giving Rhys a pointed glare. "And I'd like to know why Azriel called me and not you."

His violet eyes were tired as he answered. "Because he's just as much of a worrying ninny as you are. I knew _he_ would call, so I didn't."

She tisked but decided to ignore the barb. "What can I get you?"

His cousin stood tall in the middle of his living room, surveying him with a sweep of her brown eyes. She was fierce in most everything she did and Rhys guessed that taking care of him was no exception. They'd stood by each other for as long as he could remember. He was grateful she was here now.

He propped himself up more, trying to rise from the couch. "Really, I want to take a hot shower. Then, I'd love something to eat."

Her eyes flashed to his boot, then back up to his face. "I can't help you much with the shower part. Unless you're feeling desperate," she grinned. Rhys gave her a small glare. "I'll see about finding a stool or something we can put in the shower, just in case. While you wash, I'll find something to feed you."

Rhys hesitated, "You're going to cook?"

"Cauldron, no." She scoffed. "I'll order take out."

Rhys let out a breath at that, happy to hear she wasn't going to put too much effort into taking care of him. The last time Mor had tried to cook, no less than three fire departments had shown up to his father's house. Needless to say, she'd been banned from the kitchen ever since. Despite his pain, eating her cooking might just be worse.

"I can manage a shower," he said, hobbling to his feet. "At least I can take the boot off and not have to worry about getting a cast wet."

Mor grabbed the crutches and handed them to Rhys, watching to make sure he was able to get around okay. "Really, Az and Cass should be here to help you. If you fall down, there's no way I'm getting you up off the floor."

Rhys grunted his consent. "Except Az is keeping Cassian out of my hair so I can relax. Really, even if I fall down it'll be much more pleasant to roll around on the floor than listen to Cassian's babbling."

A peel of laughter came from the blond, and Rhys found himself grinning too. Having his cousin around lightened up most any space, and this night had needed her spirit. She wasn't around as often as he would like lately, so he was happy for her presence now.

"If you can get yourself into the bathroom, I'll start calling for dinner. Anything else you think you might need? I can pop over to the store, too, if you'd like."

"Actually, I need to pick up a prescription, if you don't mind. I didn't have the energy to get it on my way home."

Mor nodded. "No problem. I'll grab the food while I'm out, too. The last time we called for delivery it got sent to the wrong apartment."

Rhys chuckled. "Hate it when that happens." The memory of the last botched delivery had him smiling to himself.

Breaking his thought, Mor breezed over and kissed Rhys on the cheek. "I'll wait until you're in the bathroom before I go. Just in case you do fall down."

Her cousin did not deign a reply. Instead, he marched his way down toward the bathroom. Carefully, Rhys maneuvered himself so he was sitting on the toilet cover. From here, he could take off his clothing without the risk of tumbling and without the pressure on his foot. He knew he wouldn't be able to stand for long in the shower - his foot hurt too damn much - but it would be enough to make him feel a little less grimy.

"You all set in there?" Mor's voice floated through the door.

"Yeah, I'm good. You can go."

He heard her goodbye a moment before the door to the apartment closed with a solid thud.

* * *

Feyre had forgotten the milk.

All that time spent traipsing around the city and lugging groceries, and she forgot one of the essentials. She was just a little cranky about it. She couldn't wait until morning, either, because she preferred milk in her tea and it wouldn't do to go without in the morning. Tea was essential. Which meant she was now going out to the store again.

She threw the strap of her purse over her shoulder and left the apartment, turning to lock the door behind her. A noise from the apartment across from her made Feyre glance up, hoping to catch sight of her handsome neighbor again - Rhys? Is that was Cassian and Azriel had called him? - but her eyes were met with a woman.

Not what she was expecting.

The blond was gorgeous. Her floral sundress floated about her like she was in water, and she radiated light. Instantly, Feyre felt a strange sinking in her stomach.

The blond's eyes met with hers, surprise shaping her features. "Oh, hullo!" Her voice was even pretty, too, Feyre lamented.

"Hey."

"I've never seen you around here before. Are you new?"

Feyre nodded, "I moved in just yesterday."

The blond grinned, "have you met the boys yet?" There was mischief in her eyes as she asked.

"You mean the big brute, the cocky one, or the gentleman?" Feyre shrugged as the other woman tipped her head back and laughed loudly. It was a musical sound, and despite herself, Feyre liked it.

"Oh, I like you already." The blond grinned, sticking out her hand to Feyre. "I'm Morrigan, but you can call me Mor."

"Feyre." She shook hands and smiled at Mor. "It's nice to meet you."

"Likewise. It will be nice to have another female around here. All that testosterone can be a little much. And boys can be so needy!" A sigh sounded from Mor's lips. "Especially now that Rhys is laid up, I'm sure he'll be insufferable."

"Rhys is laid up?"

Slowly, the two girls started toward the stairs, talking as they went. "Yes. He broke his foot at work today - nasty business, construction - and he'll be hobbled for quite a while, I suspect. I've stopped by to take care of him."

The curiosity was getting to be too much. Feyre had to ask. "Have you been dating a long time, then?"

A giggle erupted out of Mor. "Oh, you're too much." She stopped at the bottom of the stairs and turned to face Feyre. "Got eyes for Rhys, do you?"

A deep crimson flush stained Feyre's cheeks and painted the tips of her ears. She felt like quite an idiot at this point and wished there was a hole she could crawl into. "I...um…"

Morrigan placed a gentle hand on Feyre's arm, "I'm Rhys's cousin, and while I love all of my boys deeply, they're my brothers, really." She smiled when Feyre's eyes met her own. "I'm sorry for teasing you - but really! That blush!"

Feyre managed a weak chuckle. "I'm glad you find my embarrassment cute."

Mor looped her arm through Feyre's and lead the girl out through the front door. "Don't worry, if you spend any time at all with those boys I'm sure you'll hear equally embarrassing things about me, too."

Feyre quirked an eyebrow. "I doubt that."

Mor just shrugged. "Where are you headed, Feyre?"

"I forgot to get milk while I was out today, so I was going to head back to the store."

"I'm off to grab a prescription for Rhys and pick us up some takeout, would you like to join us for dinner?"

Feyre's eyes widened a little. "Oh, I couldn't possibly intrude."

"Yes, yes you can." Mor squeezed the arm she was holding on. "Honestly, it has been so long since any of the boys have had a lady in their lives. I'm in desperate need of girl time. Since I have to wait on Rhys tonight, he doesn't get a say in the company I choose."

Feyre hoped her blush wasn't showing again. The invitation sounded lovely, and she was really hoping to see Rhys again, too. "If you're sure…"

"Yes!" Mor beamed. "What kind of take-out do you like?"

Feyre smiled a little. "Actually, I owe Rhys Mexican, so…"

"Oh, do tell!" The sparkle in Mor's brown eyes made Feyre laugh a little.

"It's nothing, really. My Thai food was delivered to their apartment last night and Rhys brought it over to me. He'd paid for it, too, and wouldn't let me pay him back. He said I could get food the next time. Then, this morning, there was a note under my door saying he preferred Mexican."

When Feyre finished her story, Mor made an interesting noise, her grin stretching even farther. "I see."

Again, the blush returned.

"Well, my dear Feyre, Mexican it is. There's a small store next to the pharmacy where you can get milk, and we can grab the food on our way back." Mor took out her phone and dialed the number to the Mexican restaurant that Rhys liked to frequent. She rattled off an order, making sure to get enough for all three of them. When that was done, she put her phone away and looped her arm back through Feyre's. "Tell me something about yourself," she prompted.

"Um…" Feyre hesitated, not quite knowing what to say. "Well, I just moved to the city, as I said. I went to University here, but I had been living with my sisters in Dover while I went to school."

"What did you study?" Mor's questions were eager.

"Psychology. I've just got a job working as a counselor at the health clinic in the city. I start work next week."

"That sounds fascinating! What work will you do there? Is it a private practice?" Feyre nearly laughed at the enthusiasm on Mor's face.

"No, it's not private. Mostly, I'll see patients who have court-ordered therapy. Someday I hope to open my own practice, but this will be a great experience."

Mor sighed. "I started to go to University. I wanted to study law - protecting truth and justice, you know - but my father insisted I stay home to take care of the family business." Feyre wasn't quite sure how to reply to that. But Mor kept talking, anyway, saving Feyre from having to say anything. "I didn't, of course, so he stopped paying my tuition. He's a nasty piece of work, my father. I've been working as a secretary for Seren Construction, Rhys's company, so I can save up enough money to go back. Rhys offered to pay the costs, but I couldn't do that to him. So...I'll just have to wait, I suppose." She realized she'd been babbling and stopped to grin at Feyre.

They'd reached the pharmacy, so Mor slipped inside to get Rhys's prescription while Feyre went across the street to get her milk.

When the joined up again, the questions started anew. "So, Feyre, boyfriend? Girlfriend?"

Feyre smirked as she asked, "Are you hitting on me, Mor?"

The light danced in Mor's eyes as she gave Feyre a devious look. "Why? Is it working?"

Laughter spilled from Feyre's mouth. "You are beautiful, but no. It's not." She laughed again as Mor pouted. "No, I'm single, at the moment. There was a boy at Uni, Isaac, but that wasn't really that serious. I think he was just up for a good time, and I was so focused on my studies that I didn't really care."

Mor grinned. "You never did tell me if it was Rhys you had your eyes on."

For what seemed the millionth time that night, Feyre blushed. "Who says I have my eyes on any of them?"

"Oh, honey, that look on your face when you saw me outside the apartment spoke volumes! Your hopes were dashed when you thought I might be a girlfriend. It'll be best if you just confess now."

Feyre bit her lip, musing over her answer. "I don't think I will. Not until you at least give me some dirt on 'your boys', as you call them."

The blond smirked and didn't answer, but instead ducked inside the Mexican restaurant to pick up their order. When she emerged again, she looped her arm through Feyre's and they started the walk back to the apartment. "You basically nailed their descriptions earlier. Cassian is the brute, but he's harmless, really. Just don't get him drunk and challenge him to a duel." Feyre gave her a questioning look but said nothing. "Azriel is quite a gentleman, most of the time, and he's the only one of the bunch I'd trust a secret to. And Rhys, well, he is quite full of himself. But he's smart and determined. When he sets his sights on something, nothing will stop him from getting it." She gave Feyre a pointed look.

Feyre's only response was a soft hum.

"They've been best friends - brothers, really - since they were small children. All three of them have been through quite a lot," Morrigan glanced at her companion, "stories they'll have to tell you themselves, if they wish." She smiled, "But they're really wonderful men. You couldn't ask for better neighbors."

Both girls quieted as they neared the apartment building. Feyre was feeling a bit overwhelmed with all the newness in her life - new apartment, new job, new neighbors, and what seemed like a new friend - and Mor was content to enjoy the evening.

As they ascended the stairs, Feyre asked, "Are you sure Rhys won't mind?"

Mor waved a hand in the air and made a dismissive noise. "He'll be delighted. I promise."

Feyre was still a little reluctant, but she would be lying if she said she wasn't curious. There was no denying he was handsome, and since they were going to be neighbors she might as well be neighborly. Plus, she owed him dinner. She dropped her milk off in her own apartment before joining Mor across the hall.

The blond opened the door with a flourish and called out into the apartment, "Rhys, darling, you've got company."

The sound of crutches could be heard down the hallway, and a moment later Rhys's voice echoed, "I would hardly call you company, cuz." Soon after, he appeared with his crutches, and much to her blushing dismay, Feyre noticed he was shirtless. Gloriously shirtless. Inky black tattoos coiled around his biceps, over his chest, and down his rib cage. It was an effort for Feyre to keep her mouth from dropping to the floor.

Not seeming to notice her blush, Rhys paused, and the only sign of surprise on his face was a quick widening of the eyes. "Hi."

Feyre waved, feeling incredibly lame as soon as she did so. "Hi. Sorry to barge in on you…"

Morrigan cut her off, "Nonsense, Rhys is delighted you're here. Aren't you, cuz?" She drawled.

With a preternatural grace, even on crutches, Rhys made his way into the living room and sat on the couch, gesturing for his guest to sit. "Happy to have the company…?" He looked at her expectantly.

"Oh, uh, Feyre." She stuttered, not quite sure what to do. She needed to think of something quickly, though, or she would definitely start drooling over his state of undress. Spotting the bags of food hanging in Mor's arms, she rushed to get them. "I, uh, brought you dinner."

At that, Rhys visibly brightened. "Mexican?" He asked hopefully.

Feyre smiled, "That's what the note said."

Mor looked between the two, a sly smile on her face. She flitted around the kitchen, grabbing plates, napkins, and utensils, calling over her shoulder, "I caught Feyre out in the hallway and she told me how you coerced her into dinner." She grinned at Rhys as she entered the living room, "probably the lamest pickup attempt ever."

Rhys groaned, a slight flush to his skin that Feyre was still trying not to stare at. "You're insufferable," he mumbled.

Mor flipped a tortilla chip in his direction. "I'm nothing of the sort. I'm taking care of you, so you best be grateful."

Rhys sent a violet glare in her direction but shifted his body to face Feyre a little more. "Feyre, you said?"

She nodded, chewing slowly on her enchilada. "Rhysand?"

He grimaced a bit, "Call me Rhys, please. No one calls me Rhysand. What brings you to the city?"

"A new job," she explained, telling him the same story she told Mor earlier. "I haven't really had a chance to explore yet, but I love this city already."

"You'll need a proper tour guide," Mor interjected. "You can't just wander the city by yourself." She glanced over at Rhys, a slight frown on her face. "Normally I would volunteer Rhys, but he's not going anywhere anytime soon with that foot they way it is." She brightened as she turned back to Feyre. "You'll just have to make due with me."

"Oh, I couldn't bother you like that…"

It was Rhys who cut her off this time. "No use in arguing with her, Feyre darling, she won't stop hounding you until she gets her way." He only laughed at the obscene gesture that his cousin sent in his direction.

"Well, that would be lovely, really." Feyre was a bit overwhelmed by these two, but she was excited by the prospect of getting to see more of the city and not having to do it alone just yet. "Thank you."

Mor grinned, a large, toothy grin filled with delight and something a lot like mischief. "You are so very welcome. We're going to have the BEST time."

"Mor…" Rhys's voice held a slight warning. She made a noise and waved him off. "Feyre, I apologize ahead of time for the torture Morrigan will put you thought." He considered her carefully before adding, "Unless of course, you enjoy endless hours of shopping."

Feyre's eyes widened to large owl-like saucers and both of her acquaintances started to laugh. She again felt her neck and cheeks stain crimson and she wondered if maybe she should go. It was Rhys who noticed her discomfort first. He stopped laughing and reached a hand in her direction. "Sorry, Feyre darling. We're not laughing at you, I promise." He sent a glare toward Mor. "You just looked so bewildered at the mention of shopping."

She shrugged, feigning a coolness she didn't feel. "I don't mind shopping, really."

Mor stood and started to clear away the empty plates. "Don't let him worry you, Fey, I promise I won't make you do anything you don't want to."

There was a stretch of silence as Mor cleaned up. Feyre offered to help but was shooed back into the living room where a very tired looking Rhys was still sitting. "You look awful," she said before she quite knew what was coming out of her mouth. "Oh no, I mean…"

Rhys cut her off with a chuckle. "I feel awful. Broken foot." He inclined his head toward the offending appendage. "Hurts like hell."

Feyre settled into her chair a little more, only slightly bothered now by the still naked chest. She studied the tattoos covering his skin, getting a little lost in the whorls and swirls snaking over his body. She only realized she was staring when he cleared his throat, smirking. "See something you like?" He drawled. Feyre's eyes snapped to his and she scowled a bit under her blush. "You are a little red there, Feyre darling." His tone was teasing.

"Prick," she mumbled, looking away. "And I'm not your 'darling'."

"I'm sorry?" He sat forward to hear her better, still smirking.

"I said," She spoke louder this time, "I'm not your 'darling.'" She met his eyes and didn't back down this time. Who was this guy, anyway? She didn't even know him and he was turning her into a blushing mess.

Rhys raised his hands in surrender but the grin didn't quite leave his face. "My apologies, my lady."

Feyre's response was cut off when Mor came sweeping back into the room. "Well, lovelies, I need to get going. Rhys, do you need anything else before I leave?" When her cousin shook his head, Mor turned to Feyre. "It was so wonderful meeting you. I do hope we can get together and go out on the town sometime. Here," she handed her a card, "it's my mobile number. Call me anytime, really." And with that, she was gone.

"Whew," Feyre said, eyes wide again. "She's a force of nature."

Rhys's smile was affectionate this time. "That she is."

He grew quiet again, and Feyre suddenly realized they were very alone in his apartment. She would usually be a little worried at being alone in a strange man's apartment, but Rhys was nearly asleep against the cushions of the couch and looked to be in obvious pain.

"I'm sorry for keeping you awake." She said, and his eyes popped open. "You really look like you could use some rest."

Rhys used his arms to push himself up to the edge of the couch, and Feyre couldn't help but sneak a glance at the muscles that rippled under his skin. "Normally, I would apologize for being such terrible company, but you are right. Next time, though, I promise I'll be much more attentive, Feyre dar-" he stopped short before he could finish the word.

She smiled, "Next time?"

His violet eyes traced their way over her body, sending a delightful shiver up her spine. "Yes, next time." He started to stand, reaching for his crutches. "I'll walk you to your door."

Feyre stood and fumbled for her purse. "Oh no, sit, please. I can walk myself just fine."

He ignored her and thumped slowly across the living room anyway. "I'm sure you can, but what kind of gentleman would I be if I let you walk alone?"

"Gentleman, my ass," Feyre mumbled, and Rhys let out a bark of laughter. "Well, come on then, gimpy. If you insist." She wouldn't admit it out loud, but she rather enjoyed the company of this man, even if he did make her blush constantly. And she would very much like to see him again, too, but she wasn't about to say that, either.

When they reached her apartment, Rhys leaned against the door frame. "Thanks for dinner, Feyre."

This time, her cheeks didn't go pink. "You're welcome. Goodnight, Rhys."

"Goodnight, Feyre."

When she shut the door behind her, Feyre let out a huff of breath at the shiver again skittering up her spine. There was something about the way her name sounded in his mouth that made her knees go a bit watery. She would very much enjoy getting to know her neighbor, she mused. And at the very least, he was not too bad to look at.


	4. Chapter 4

Not for the first time, Feyre caught herself thinking about tattoos and biceps and naked abs. And, in what seemed to be a permanent state these days, she felt her cheeks warm as they stained red.

Damn that man.

It had been two days since her dinner with Mor and Rhys. She'd been busy getting things set up at her new office and going through her schedule. She didn't officially start working until the following week, but she wanted to be as prepared as possible. But that whole time she couldn't seem to stop thinking about Rhys, and it was rather frustrating.

She was not usually the love-sick sort. In fact, she hadn't had a relationship in a long while and that had suited her just fine. She threw most of her time and efforts into finishing school and finding a job, and she hadn't seen the need for the distraction of a man. But of course, here she was, daydreaming about a man she barely knew but really wouldn't mind getting to know better.

Shaking her head, she mumbled,"Get a grip, Feyre," as she ascended the stairs to her apartment.

"Talking to yourself, neighbor?" A voice spoke from the dark behind her and she jumped, letting out a squeak of surprise.

Cassian stood there with a shit-eating grin on his face.

"Mother above! Do you always lurk in dark hallways? You're like a gods damned wraith!" She clutched her hands to her chest and let out a deep sigh, trying to calm her racing heart.

"It just so happens I was on my way out when I heard you talking to yourself like a mad woman." His eyes narrowed a bit, "I wasn't _lurking_."

Feyre made a noise. "Sure." She turned and successfully unlocked her door, glancing over her shoulder at Cassian who still stood on the landing. "Well, I thought you were on your way out?"

He chuckled. "I like your spirit, Feyre."

She sent a rude gesture in place of a verbal response. Once in her apartment, Feyre happily shed her shoes and made a straight line for her room to slip into her sweats. Even without patients to see, it had been a long day at the office. There had been lots of paperwork to fill out and meetings to sit through, and there were so many new names and faces she could hardly keep them all straight. What she really wanted now was food and the couch and a movie.

Padding into the kitchen, she preheated the oven and took out the lasagna from her fridge. In a fit of domesticity, she had prepped a cooked a week's worth of meals, stocking her freezer and fridge with all kinds of food. Now, all she had to do was pop something in the oven or microwave. While she did love her take-out, she felt much better about cooking her own food. Cooking also gave her something to do when her mind was restless. She liked the art of blending flavors, experimenting with different tastes and textures. And then, of course, she loved to eat.

Soon, her apartment was filling with the aroma of lasagna and garlic bread and Feyre could feel the stress slipping away from her shoulders. She poured a glass of wine, setting it on the coffee table and perused through her selection of DVDs. What would it be tonight? Romance? Action? Mystery? She let her fingertip brush the spine of the plastic cases, searching each title for something that caught her attention.

She had just picked a movie and slid it into the DVD player when a knock sounded at the door. She paused, brow furrowing, "Who could that be?"

A quick peek through the peephole had her grinning, "Rhys," She stated as she opened the door. "What brings you here? You really should be elevating that foot."

He leaned on his crutches, somehow managing to look confident and poised even in sweatpants. "Hello, Feyre darling."

So, he was back to the nickname again? This time, she decided, she would let it slide. Perhaps she shouldn't, but she did like the way "darling" sounded coming out of his mouth. "Is there something you need?" She settled her hip against the doorframe, crossing her arms over her chest, suddenly aware of the thin cotton t-shirt she wore.

"Actually, yes, I do." He shifted his weight to his good foot, standing taller. She hadn't quite noticed his height before, but she was certainly aware of him now. It sent a shiver down her spine. "I hate to ask, but I need your help."

Feyre quirked an eyebrow but said nothing.

Rhys continued on, "Cassian has gone out for the night and Azriel is finishing things up at the office for me, so I'm all by myself." He paused, flashing a wicked grin. "Would you care to keep me company?"

Feyre's eyes widened a little. "Really? That's it?"

"What?" Rhys looked slightly shocked at her sudden ire.

"I thought you needed help with something because of your foot!" She stood taller herself, although she didn't really come near to matching his towering height. In fact, if she tilted her head up, she could see the underside of his chin. "You hobbled all the way over here just to ask if I wanted to hang out?"

Rhys looked affronted. "I do not hobble," he declared.

Feyre's eyes narrowed as she stared him down, but he didn't seem to be going anywhere anytime soon. With a sigh, she opened the door to her apartment wider and motioned for him to follow. "Fine, but you'll have to come in here. I have a lasagna about to finish and a glass of wine waiting for me."

She couldn't see the smiled that stretched across his mouth, but she could feel the triumph as he moved in behind her. "Lasagna?" His tone was hopeful.

"Yes, lasagna. Are you hungry?"

"Famished," came the reply behind her, but something about the word made Feyre glance over her shoulder as she entered the living room. She blushed when their eyes met. He chuckled a little, "I could get used to making you blush, Feyre darling."

The red on her cheeks deepened and she threw him a dirty look. "Please, sit. Can I get you some wine?" Her question was asked through clenched teeth, and Rhys had to hold back another chuckle.

"That would be lovely, thank you." He set his crutches aside and lowered himself down to the couch. His curious eyes took in the room around him, noting the paintings hanging all around the space, the trinkets and knick-knacks scattered over flat surfaces, the psychology books stacked on a side table. He also spotted the glass of wine on the coffee table, as she'd mentioned, and the DVD case next to it. "I'm sorry for barging in on your night," He said.

Feyre was in the kitchen pouring his wine and taking the garlic bread out of the oven. She smirked at him, "No, you're not." Her tone was challenging and Rhys decided he liked playing with her.

He sat back against the cushions of the couch and stretched his arms over the back. "You're right," he stated. "I'm not."

Feyre joined him in the living room, handing him his glass before sitting herself down on the other end of the couch, tucking her legs under her and turning her body so she faced him. "I'm not sure if I should be flattered or suspicious." She took a sip of her wine. "I mean, we don't really know each other all that well."

Rhys raised an eyebrow. "Oh, I think I know you quite well, Feyre darling."

She supposed he was deliberately ignoring her request to not call her darling. "Really?" Her tone said she disagreed.

Rhys shifted so he was facing her more fully, lifting his injured foot onto the couch and stretching out a little. "Really." His eyes carefully moved over her face, down the column of her neck, lingering on the dip of her t-shirt, and then down the rest of her body. It was almost as physical as a caress, and again a shiver skittered its way down her spine. "I know that you like Thai food, you are very good at reading people, you're independent and try to do everything yourself, although you won't admit that sometimes it scares you. You are an artist and you see everything as something to be painted." He smirked as her eyes widened. "Oh, and you like to cook because it reminds you of your mother."

Feyre's back straightened as she sat up. "How in the gods-damned world do you know that?" she demanded.

Rhys enjoyed a sip of his wine, savoring the pause. He set his glass down gently before answering. "The first is easy. You ordered Thai on the night you moved in. I know you're good at reading people because you told me you were a psychologist and you've got plenty of books here that prove it. I know you're independent because you've moved here alone, without your sisters, and you haven't once asked for help from your awesome neighbors." He used his hand to gesture around the room. "Your talent as an artist is obvious in these paintings. They're lovely," he said, and Cauldron damn him, she blushed again. "And the last part about your mother was a guess. But in all the pictures of you two together, you're younger, so it was an educated guess."

Feyre sat back against the armrest and let out a puff of air. "Again, not sure if I should be flattered or suspicious."

"Suspicious as in, am I going to tie you up and have my way with you?" He felt triumph at her wide-eyed stare as he said, "Oh, that might happen at some point, Feyre darling, but you'll be a willing participant, I'm sure."

He wanted to laugh at the look at her face but thought it wise to keep his mouth shut.

The timer on the oven beeped, and Feyre stood. "You are a shameless flirt, Rhys."

"Seren." He called after her.

"What?" Her voice was muffled as she bent to take the lasagna from the oven, setting it down on a trivet to cool some.

"My last name, it's Seren."

"Oh," she said, gathering plates and utensils.

He shrugged as she glanced in his direction. "Well, I figured you might be a little less suspicious if you knew my full name."

She hummed a response, focusing instead on lifting slices of the casserole onto each plate and cutting the garlic bread before placing it in a basket. Carefully, she carried it all over to the coffee table and set the food in front of Rhys before joining him again on the couch.

"Archeron," she said after a moment. "My last name." Somehow, Rhys knew this was a sign of her trust if only a little. He smiled.

"Well, Ms. Archeron, this smells incredible," he stated, closing his eyes and inhaling deeply.

"Thank you. My mother's recipe." The question was in his eyes, but he didn't ask it out loud. Instead, Feyre volunteered her story on her own. "She died when I was eight. Cancer."

"I'm sorry."

Silver lined her eyes but she did not cry. While the loss was still painful, like a wound that would never fully heal, the ache had lessened with time. "She was beautiful, my mother. I didn't inherit much of her grace," she smiled slightly. "But she taught me to paint and shared her love of food and cooking. Both my sisters love to cook, too. They're older and they remember her more, but we all have stories of time in the kitchen together."

"And your father?"

Feyre shrugged her shoulders a little. "He passed last year." She looked over at her companion and felt drawn into those violet eyes. "He needed knee surgery, an old injury that caused him a lot of pain. But," she swallowed hard, "there were complications after the procedure. A blood clot went to his brain." This time, a tear slid its way down her pale cheek. "He was in a coma for a while, and we were hoping he might recover…"

Without thinking, Rhys reached over and placed a warm hand over her knee. "I'm sorry, Feyre."

She stared at that hand, the heat from it seeping through her pants even as gooseflesh broke out on her arms. "He was never really the same after my mother died," she confessed. Her voice was quiet as she said, "It was almost a blessing, really."

Carefully, Rhys reached for her hand. When she moved to place her fingers in his, he twined them together and gave her a gentle squeeze. "They would both be proud of you, I think."

This time, when she looked at him, her eyes were clear and her gaze was steady. "You don't know that." She said, "but thank you for saying it."

Feyre handed Rhys his plate of food, offering the basket of bread. She took her own plate and settled back against the couch, slowly savoring the first bite. When Rhys let out a moan, Feyre found herself watching him chew slowly before swallowing. "This is delicious." He took another bite and moaned again. "So good."

Whew, Feyre thought, it was getting very warm in this room. To keep from saying something incredibly stupid or embarrassing, she swallowed a mouthful of wine and tucked into her own plate. It was quite good if she did say so herself. The two ate in companionable silence for a while, the only sounds coming from the clinking of forks on plates. When the food was gone, Feyre set her plate on the coffee table and picked up her wine, watching Rhys carefully from her end of the couch. Sitting like this, his injured foot was touching her thigh, and if she wanted, she could easily reach forward and place a hand on his chest. She had never noticed before how small this couch was, but at the moment she wasn't sure she minded.

"Do you make a habit of inviting yourself over into other people's houses?" She asked, and Rhys let out a chuckle.

He rubbed a hand over the back of his neck, and Feyre was pleased to see a slight pink to his tan cheeks. "Actually, no." His violet eyes met her grey ones. "I could smell your cooking from across the hall, and…" he laughed again, "I was going to make up some lame excuse to need your help with something. But when I saw you standing there, I couldn't think of anything except wanting to spend time with you again."

It was Feyre's turn to blush. "You interrupted my movie night." She meant it as a joke, but a strange hurt flashed across Rhys's face. She had somehow offended him.

Rhys sat up, reaching over for his crutches. "I'm sorry for bothering you." He looked a little wounded, and Feyre rushed to grab his arm and keep him from leaving. Rhys glanced down at her fingers wrapped around his forearm, and Feyre could feel the muscles shifting underneath.

"Please, stay." She gripped a little tighter. "It's really not a bother. I was just trying to tease you."

This time, the look in his eyes was molten and feral. "You have no problem teasing, Feyre," he mumbled, again glancing at the dip in her t-shirt and the flush of her neck.

Feyre took her hand from his arm and tried to sit back a little for some distance. Her body was reacting in ways she hadn't experienced for a long time, and her brain was fighting for some sense of order to her jumbled thoughts. "Will you stay? We could watch a movie?"

Rhys let his crutches go and leaned back into the cushions. He again propped his leg on the couch. Feyre didn't even think about it as she grabbed a pillow and gently tucked it under his foot, placing it on her lap.

"What are we watching?" He asked, not at all caring what the answer was. He was quite content just to sit here in the silence, if she wanted, feeling the heat of her next to him and listening to her breath.

Well, that's a first, Rhys thought to himself.

Feyre picked up the remote and turned on the TV, starting the moving. She grinned over at him, "I hope you like musicals." And the opening credits of _The Sound of Music_ started to play. He took that back - he did care what they watched. She laughed at the grimace on his face. "Too bad," she said. "I'm too comfortable to move again and this is what's on. You'll just have to deal."

But as she started to gently trace patterns across his shin with her fingertips, Rhys found that he really didn't care all that much about what they did. As long as she kept touching him like that, she could put on whatever she wanted.


	5. Chapter 5

Feyre was acutely aware of the man right next to her. She could feel the heat of him, feel the weight of his leg across her lap, and what's more, she could feel the heaviness of his gaze. She pretended to ignore it, trying to engross herself in the movie. That lasted for about ten minutes.

She peeked at him from the corner of her eyes. "You're supposed to be watching the movie."

"Why did you choose to study psychology?" He asked, and Feyre turned to look at him in surprise.

Noticing his intense stare, she sighed and turned the volume of the TV down. She shifted, careful not to jostle his foot too much, and turned so she could face him. As she spoke, she continued to trace small patterns on his leg. "I like knowing what makes people tick," she confessed. "My father...he wasn't always easy to live with. After my mother died, he just stopped for a while. Stopped living, working, being a father...and it tore us apart." Her grey eyes were steady as she looked at him. "I found myself taking on more responsibility. I picked up odd jobs to help around the house."

She paused, and Rhys had to hold himself back from reaching for her. Instead, he let her talk.

"It was hard at first. I was so young - only fifteen, sixteen - and there were a few times that people took advantage of me." When she felt Rhys stiffen beneath her hands, she met his eyes again. "I mean money. It would surprise you how many people would swindle a naive young woman. And I hated it."

"Didn't your sisters help?" Rhys found her story making him angry, wishing he could've been there to help young Feyre. When she offered him a shrug, he felt this anger simmer a little hotter. Still, he let her talk.

"I started to watch other people carefully, seeing how they handled themselves. Pretty soon, I learned what to watch for, how to judge if someone would be honest or not." Her hands started to gently knead the muscles of his leg. "I liked it - learning to read people and being able to use that information to stand up for myself. So, when the opportunity presented itself for me to go to University, I decided to study psychology."

Rhys closed his eyes. The feeling of her fingers was just too good. "You don't strike me as the type of person to take shit from anyone."

"I don't. Not anymore." Her fingers pressed harder into his calf and he had to hold back a groan. "I don't want to ever feel helpless again."

His admiration for Feyre grew even more, and his attraction stretched beyond just physical. She was fierce, and he wanted to keep getting to know her. He felt pulled to her, and he was perfectly content to follow that inclination. He was happy he had forced himself over tonight

"Your turn." Her voice interrupted his thoughts. "Tell me something about you."

He shifted, lifting his other leg and giving her a questioning, hopeful look. She rolled her eyes, but set his injured foot aside and began to massage the new limb. "Both of my parents are dead." It wasn't a pleasant start, but she had shared some personal things. He felt it was only right that he reciprocate. "My mother and younger sister were killed when I was a teenager. A local thug trying to earn his way into a gang."

Feyre inhaled sharply. "I am so sorry."

"I was out with friends that night. At a party." His voice was low when he confessed, "I will never forgive myself for not being there." He swallowed hard, clearing his throat. "My dad tried to track the bastard down. He didn't think the police would be able to exact the kind of justice he was after, so he took it upon himself to find their killer. He ended up getting shot down in an alleyway. The police had an idea who did it - they were familiar with the gang - but there was never enough evidence to arrest anyone."

Feyre felt the blood drain from her face and she gripped his leg a little tighter. "Cauldron, Rhys. That's horrible."

It was his turn to shrug. "It took me a long time to move forward." His violet eyes were stormy when he looked at her. "I was filled with a lot of anger and rage for a really long time. It was Azriel and Cassian and Mor who helped me come out of it. That, and suddenly inheriting my father's business."

"The construction company?" Feyre asked, remembering what Mor had told her the other day. Suddenly the name clicked. "You own Seren Construction?" Although she wasn't from the city, Seren Construction was a big company even in Dover where she grew up. To own that company meant Rhys was a very successful business owner, and he was worth a lot of money.

He shifted, slightly embarrassed, rubbing his hands over the back of his neck. "Yes. I do."

Feyre could sense that he was uncomfortable, but she was intrigued by this tall, dark, handsome man in her living room. "That must be an incredible workload."

"I have a lot of people who work for me. And Cassian and Azriel are there, too. They both help me run things, and I'm not sure I could do it without them."

Feyre smiled at the names. "Your friends are...creepy." At that, Rhys tipped his head back and let out a bark of laughter, and her cheeks warmed. She felt she needed to explain. "I mean, they always seem to be lurking in the hallway, hiding in the shadows. It's rather strange."

"You are not wrong, Feyre darling." His laughter faded a bit and his smiled turned nostalgic. "But they are two of the best men I know, and I trust them with my life." He gave her a long stare. "They'll watch out for you, too, you know. We all will. If you need anything at all, anytime, we are always here."

She hummed. "I'm beginning to see that."

The two sat in companionable silence for a while, watching each other from their respective ends of the couch. Feyre's hands still traveled over Rhys's legs, and the more she touched him the hotter the air seemed to grow. She wasn't doing anything particularly risque with her fingers, but the tension between them started to stretch and pull taut. He watched as her breath hitched, her chest rising and falling a little faster. His eyes drank in the sight of her, and he was about to say to hell with being a gentleman. He wanted to reach for her, gather her in, and find out just what she tasted like. Before he could move, though, a loud knock sounded at the door.

"Feyre!" Cassian's loud bellow broke any moment they might have shared. "It's Cassian. Open up!"

He sounded a little panicked, so Feyre set Rhys's feet on the couch next to her and hurried to get the door.

"What? What's wrong?"

Cassian's eyes were wide as he answered. "Have you seen Rhys? He's not home and he's left his cell behind, so we can't get a hold of him. He didn't leave a note or anything and…" He trailed off slowly, eyes peering in the room over Feyre's shoulder. "Cauldron boil me."

Feyre opened her door a little wider, gesturing for Cassian to come in. Rhys grabbed his crutches and stood from the couch. "Sorry to worry you," he said, and his grin did not match his tone. His eyes sparkled with mischief. "Feyre invited me over for dinner."

Cassian swore again, and Feyre's gaze flitted back and forth between the two men as they talked. "Yeah, but she didn't buy you dinner," Cassian said.

Rhys looked at Feyre. "Yes, she did."

She was completely confused as to what was going on, but when Cassian looked at her in question, she confirmed. "Yeah, the other night I ran into Mor and I ended up buying dinner for us all. Mexican." When Cassian spouted off a few more choice words, Feyre's brows furrowed. "Is there something wrong with Mexican food?"

Rhys was grinning madly now, and he moved over next to Feyre, balancing himself on one crutch and throwing an arm around her shoulder. "No, Feyre darling, there isn't. Cassian is just pissed that he lost a bet and now owes me $50."

She gave Rhys a long stare. "A bet? About me?"

"After that first night, when your take-out was delivered to our place, he bet me that you wouldn't speak to me for a week. I said that you would not only speak to me, you would also buy me dinner."

She slapped his chest without thinking, startling Rhys so he wobbled a little. "You tricked me!"

"What? How?" He held up an arm to keep her from smacking his chest again. Instead, he snagged her hand and twined her fingers with his.

"You tricked me into buying you dinner by...well…" She trailed off, not quite sure how she had been tricked. "Well, you made a bet!" she shouted as if this was answer enough.

Rhys did his best not to laugh. "I did. I'm sorry." He used their joined hands to pull her a little closer. "If it makes you feel any better, I planned to use the money to take you out to eat."

Again, Feyre's cheeks flamed. Their color grew even deeper when Cassian's voice reminded them they weren't alone. "You two seem awfully cozy."

Quickly, Feyre untangled their hands and stepped away from Rhys. She moved into the kitchen and started to putter a little, not knowing what to do with her hands. "I made lasagna, Cassian, are you hungry? Would Azriel like some? Rhys, I can send some home with you, if you want." Her rambling made both men smile.

"Is it good?" Cassian asked.

Rhys responded. "Nope, terrible. You don't want any." At that, Feyre spun around to give him a shocked glare. Cassian looked between the two, still a little baffled at how close they seemed. "I'll eat it, of course, to be polite. But Cass, you would hate it."

Cassian smirked. "I would love some if you're offering." He punched Rhys in the shoulder, somewhat gently. "Rhys is just trying to keep you to himself."

"He means the food."

Cassian hummed, "Right. The food."

Feyre stood there for a second, wide-eyed, before spinning back to the counter and starting to take out containers for the food. She was flustered, that much was easy to see. Both men watched as she fluttered from one spot to another and packed up the lasagna. They had to repress their grins.

When she finished, she brought the stack of containers over to Cassian and dumped them into his arms. "There's garlic bread, too," she declared. All three of them stood there awkwardly for a moment, looking at the towering pile of glass dishes in Cassian's arms.

It was Rhys who broke the tension first. "Thank you for dinner, Feyre, and your company." He was pleased to see her cheeks pinken.

"You're welcome," she mumbled. All of them moved toward the door, and Feyre held it open. What had been a very intense evening of conversation had turned strangely strained and she wanted some time alone to get her head straight. "Have a good night."

Cassian said his thanks and moved across the hall. Rhys lingered for a moment, then dipped his head down and kissed her cheek. "Good night, Feyre darling."

She stood there frozen as he crutched his way to his apartment. Just before his door closed, though, she shook herself from her daze and called out to him. "That fifty bucks is mine!"

His laughter could be heard through the wood as the door shut behind him.

Little by little, they fell into somewhat of a routine. Since Rhys was housebound because of his foot, he spent many afternoons and evenings at Feyre's place. He was way too bored sitting alone in his apartment, and he just couldn't seem to keep himself away from her. He liked coaxing her out of her shell, and he liked having someone to talk to. He didn't often share his personal life with people outside of his inner circle; it felt good to let someone else in.

It didn't hurt that that someone else was nice to look at, either.

Feyre didn't seem to mind the intrusions, either. In fact, she was less apprehensive about all the of new things happening in her life because she found it easy to talk to Rhys about her worries. He was a very good sounding board. What's more, when she discovered that the boys raved over most anything she made, she started cooking huge meals to take over to them, or she would invite them for dinner. It was extremely satisfying to hear them extol her food. Sometimes even Mor joined them, and Feyre found herself really starting to like being surrounded by the noise and clamor of them all. It was chaotic but somehow comfortable. All of the boys and Mor were welcome guests in Feyre's apartment anytime, and when they weren't in her space, she was across the hall in theirs.

And then, of course, there was the building tension between Rhys and Feyre that seemed to electrify everything around them. Rhys always found a way to be touching her - sitting near her on the couch, playing with her fingers, running a hand through her hair. He couldn't get enough of her. Feyre wasn't bothered by his attention. In fact, she would often sprawl across his lap when they were hanging out together.

The others were getting a little sick of the PDA, but no one was quite brave enough to call them on it yet.

There were bets being made on how long it would take for the two of them to get together. This time, though, Rhys made sure to stay out of the bet-making for fear of pissing Feyre off. He figured that it was safer that way.


	6. Chapter 6

At this moment, Feyre's mind was far away from Rhys and his motley family. They had proved to be a wonderful distraction while she was getting settled, but now it was time to truly get to work. She was nervously checking the clock and arranging the items on her desk in anticipation of her first patient. Since she worked for a clinic, all of the clients she would see were court-mandated. Part of their probation or sentencing included psychiatric help, so they were sent to Feyre's clinic. Right now, she had three new patients that she would be seeing.

This was her first.

She was incredibly nervous.

Last night, she had spilled her fears to Mor, who had quickly assured Feyre that she would be wonderful. "Just listen," the blond had reminded her, "that's all you can do to start."

When the buzzer on her desk phone sounded to indicate her patient was here, Feyre let out a deep breath and stood. She smoothed her pants and blazer, giving herself one last mental pep-talk, and strode for the door to greet Mara, the young lady in need of some help.

"Hi, Mara." She smiled and gestured for the young woman to enter the room. "I'm Feyre."

"Yeah, whatever," was the only reply as Mara slumped into an armchair.

Feyre stood at the door for a moment, looking at the back of her patient's brunette head.

This might be a longer day than she first thought.

* * *

"It was awful!" Feyre's voice was muffled as she rested her head against her folded arms. She was currently sitting at Rhys's kitchen table telling him about her day as he poured her a much-needed glass of wine.

"It couldn't have been that bad, really." He set the glass of merlot gently down in front of her.

She glared up at him with steely grey eyes. "She didn't speak to me the entire session. A whole, long hour."

Rhys gave her a soft smile. "It will get better. How about the other patients? How did those sessions go?"

Feyre let out a sigh and took a long sip from her glass before answering. "They were all right, I suppose. I just hoped it would be...more…" When Rhys lifted an eyebrow in question, she continued. "I was really thinking I could help these people, and today just felt flat. None of them wanted to talk about anything important, and sometimes it seemed like I was just talking to myself."

Rhys reached across the table and picked up Feyre's hands, playing with her fingers. "It might take a while for them to get comfortable with you."

"I know."

"And these people are not with you because they're ready for help; they're there because they've been court mandated to get help. That might take some time to get over."

Another huff of air. "I know."

He gently tugged on her hand. "So? Their reluctance to talk today is not a reflection of how good you are, you know."

This time she didn't deign to reply.

"Just give it some time. Be patient. Eventually, they'll start talking." He grinned wolfishly. "You are pretty irresistible, after all."

Feyre rolled her eyes. "Shameless."

Rhys stood, reaching for his cane. He had ditched the crutches a week ago, sick of feeling hobbled. The cane wasn't much better, but at least it could move more easily around rooms. He was heading back to work soon, despite his doctor's insistence that he needed to rest and stay off of his foot. He had really only stayed home as long as he did because of Feyre. After a couple weeks, when he could bear to move around more, he found himself staying home because it meant he could spend more time with his neighbor. In all the years he'd run his father's company, Rhys had never taken a vacation. He supposed he deserved some time off.

Giving his head a slight shake, Rhys cleared his mind of thoughts and grinned at his companion. "Come with me." He said, offering Feyre his hand.

"Where are we going?"

He shrugged a little, grasping her fingers when she placed her hand in his. "Out. Somewhere away from this apartment. Let's go see the sights, or get some food, or catch some jazz music at the club." He pulled her closer, invading her personal space and enjoying the way her pupils widened as their chests collided. "I want to take you out."

Feyre didn't back away from him, secretly enjoying the heat of him. She did give him a puzzled look, though. "Are you sure? Your foot…"

Rhys huffed. "My foot is fine." When she frowned at him, he pushed on. "I promise." He gently placed a hand on her hip, gripping the fabric of her dress between his fingers. "You've been here for a month now and I haven't properly taken you out in the city. I know Mor hasn't been able to show you around yet, and I want to be there when you see things for the first time."

The answer was on the tip of her tongue before a coherent thought even formed in her head. "Yes."

Feyre knew that things were changing between them. She was nervous, and not quite sure what to make of this serious, intense man, but she found that she didn't really care. Her blood hummed when he was around. Her heart raced in her chest, and every touch was electric and alive. She couldn't get enough of him.

Maybe she was letting things move too quickly. Maybe she should be more cautious. But she trusted him in a way she couldn't really explain. And to be honest, she didn't want to.

Reluctantly, she stepped back from his warmth. "Let me grab my purse." Rhys still held her hand, and she thought for a moment that he wasn't going to let her go, but eventually, he let her fingers slip through his.

His violet eyes were glowing. "I'll meet you outside your door."

When Feyre was out of the apartment, Rhys took a series of deep breaths. He had been inches away from crushing her against him and devouring her mouth. It had been sheer, steely will-power that kept him from ravaging her, but his hold on that control was a tenuous thing. The more he was around her, the more he wanted her. He wanted to explore the silk of her skin, trace the freckles across her shoulders, and kiss his way over every inch of her.

He wouldn't, of course, until she was ready.

But that wouldn't stop him from giving her all of his attention in every other way. And perhaps offering temptation. A lot of temptation.

Rhy's grinned to himself and it was a wicked thing.

He waited for a moment outside Feyre's door, leaning against the frame. He could hear her inside, humming slightly off-tune. It made his heart swell a little more, and he decided at that moment that he was turning into a soft old sap.

"What are you smiling about?"

Rhys started, not having even noticed Feyre's door opening. His eyes raked over her frame and he licked his lips slowly. He had to ball his fists at his sides to keep from reaching out for her. "I can't tell you," he said, still smiling widely. "You'll think less of me."

Just as he planned, Feyre blushed to the tips of her ears.

"You are insufferable," she mumbled, but she still took his offered arm.

He leaned in close, nearly brushing his lips against her ears when he whispered, "but you like it." Straightening up, he tugged her against his side. "Where do you want to go tonight, Feyre darling?"

She thought for a moment. "Where do you and Cassian and Mor and Az usually hang out? Let's go there."

They started walking, moving slowly because of Rhys's foot. "Oh, well, are you sure?"

Feyre looked up at him, confused. "Why?"

"Well, once I take you there, that's it. It means you're officially part of our family. There's no going back from that." He grinned and added, "and it means we'll probably run into all three of them."

"On a Tuesday?"

Rhys laughed. "Have you met them?"

Feyre smiled, grabbing his arm a little tighter and tucking in closely. "Part of the family, hm? Do you think they'll have me?" She looked up at him from under her lashes, "will you? Have me?"

Rhys's eyes darkened and he stopped walking, turning Feyre to face him fully and bringing her in close. His breath was warm on her neck and cheeks when he spoke against her skin, "You are a wicked, cruel thing, Feyre darling." His lips hovered over her ear, and he used every last drop of his willpower to keep from sliding his mouth down the curve of her neck. "You can't imagine all the ways I've thought about having you." He felt her intake of breath. They stood there, close together, breathing heavily. Rhys thought for a moment that perhaps they would skip going out on the town and he would just take her back to his apartment and show her just what was on his mind.

But she took a step back.

Her cheeks were flushed, her pupils wide. She licked her lips and took up his arm again, propelling them forward. "I think I need a drink, Rhys."

His only response was a low hum.

When they reached Rita's, the floor was packed with dancing bodies and the air thrummed with heady jazz music. Despite the crowds, Rhys easily spotted Cassian and Azriel at their usual table tucked in the back. Mor was on the dance floor spinning her girlfriend around with wild laughter alight in her eyes. She stopped when she spotted Rhys and Feyre, rushing over to greet them and nearly tackling them with hugs.

"You're here!" She kissed Feyre's cheeks and tugged her out of Rhys's arms. "Come, meet Genevieve. I've told her all about you and she's been dying to meet you." And just like that, Feyre was swept from Rhys's side and whisked away into the crowd.

He smirked to himself, making his way over to the table where Cassian and Azriel greeted him with a clap on the shoulder. "You brought her to Rita's?" Cassian asked when they sat down, grinning stupidly at Rhys. "You know what that means, right?"

Rhys didn't reply, instead choosing to watch the three girls sway and twirl around the dance floor. He was mesmerized by Feyre, and he couldn't take his eyes off of her.

"We've lost him," Az quipped. Rhys flipped him a finger over his shoulder, keeping his gaze glued to the brunette across the room. Cassian and Azriel laughed.

A moment later, a glass of whiskey was set in front of Rhys, and he finally tore his eyes away from Feyre and turned to join them in conversation. "The boys were asking when you were coming back to work," Cassian said, throwing back his own drink.

"Next week, and it can't come soon enough. I'm ready to be back."

"The doctor has cleared you?" Azriel asked, a knowing look in his eyes.

Rhys smirked. "I can't take the boot off, and I should be keeping it elevated. But I figured if I spend most of my time in the office I won't be breaking any of his mandates." He finished off his whiskey. "I'm sick of sitting on my ass. I want to be working again. And I need to make sure you two haven't screwed everything up in my absence."

Cassian laughed. "You haven't hated it too much, obviously." He nodded in the girls' direction. "You've kept yourself busy enough."

Rhys's eyes strayed back to Feyre and he lost himself in watching her for a moment. "No, it hasn't been a terrible few weeks," he finally said.

Azriel's voice was low as he asked, "Have you told her how you feel yet?"

"How I feel?"

"Please, Rhys. We're not blind. It's so obvious that you're head over heels for her." Azriel gave Rhys a pointed look. "Does she know?"

"Well, if the drool didn't give him away…" Cassian let out a bark of laughter when Rhys grabbed a roll from the basket on the table and chucked it at his head.

He was saved from answering their question, though, when all three girls came back to the table giggling and out of breath. He didn't give Feyre a chance to choose where to sit, grabbing her by the waist and setting her on his lap. She grinned at him and his stomach did something strange.

"Having fun?"

She let out a huff of air. "You've been holding out on me. This place is wonderful." She leaned back against his chest, gladly taking the drink that Mor offered. After a long sip, she placed her mouth near Rhys's ear. "It's too bad you can't dance right now." She shifted against him, grinning. "I have a feeling we might make good dance partners."

He growled, low in his throat, and his hands tightened on her hips. Her grin widened.

"You weren't lying, Morrigan. The tension between them is rather sickening." The comment came from Genevieve, Mor's girlfriend, and the eyes of everyone on the table focused on Rhys and Feyre. The girl in question ducked her head and hid her face in Rhys's neck. "And they're not dating?"

Mor's mouth quirked. "No. My cousin is a bit of an idiot when it comes to women."

"Remind me again why I hang out with you lot?" Rhys finished off Feyre's drink, scowling at the group.

"Because you love us, Rhysie." This time the roll hit Cassian square in the forehead. He blinked rapidly, and the rest of the table burst into laughter.

More drinks and food were ordered and they settled into banter and conversation. Genevieve was a teacher, and she and Feyre talked about students and psychology and a whole host of things. Mor sat and listened, happy to see everyone getting along so well. It was not often that a new person was let into their inner circle, and Mor found Feyre refreshing. Plus, she evened out the testosterone. On their end of the table, the boys talked construction and the latest rugby scores.

Everyone smiled and laughed and drank.

So, hours later, as Rhys escorted a very tipsy Feyre back to the apartment, he wondered if bringing her out to Rita's on a Tuesday night was the best of ideas.

"I don't want to go home yet," Feyre's words were garbled by a huge yawn. Her head bumped against his shoulder and Rhys had to pull her upright to keep her walking. "That was so much fun."

"You may have had a little too much fun, Feyre darling. Your head is going to hurt tomorrow."

She stumbled a little, "Oh, tomorrow I have more patients." She hiccuped. Rhys took a firmer hold on her, wrapping his arm around her waist to keep her walking. "I don't think I should have had that last drink."

Rhys hid a smile. "Have yourself some tea when you get back. That and some aspirin and you should be just fine."

She hummed but said nothing.

They made the rest of the walk in relative silence, enjoying the coolness of the night air. Rhys, even though he tried not to, kept playing Azriel's question over in his head, wondering if maybe he should tell Feyre what he was feeling. He thought, perhaps, that she must know. And he hoped that her touches and smiles meant that she felt the same way. But he wasn't completely sure, and it was starting to eat at him a little. Generally, he didn't have a problem talk to women, but this felt different. Bigger. He enjoyed her company so very much, and there was a good chance he could ruin their friendship if he said something and she didn't feel the same. He didn't want that to happen. Although...she might be waiting for him to make the first move.

He was so lost in thought that he hadn't even noticed they had reached her apartment door.

"Rhys," Feyre's voice broke through his thoughts. "Are you okay?"

"Hmm?"

"You're being really quiet." She leaned against the door frame, yawning deeply. "Is everything okay?"

Rhys's mouth quirked in a half-smile. "I think the question is, are you okay? You tried to out drink Cassian."

Feyre frowned, placing a hand over her stomach as it roiled a little. "I think that might have been a bad idea." Her grey eyes met his and she stilled. "Would you...like to come inside?"

Everything inside him Rhys screamed at him to say "Yes!" and sweep Feyre into his arms. His rational brain, cauldron boil him, noted the glassy look to her eyes and the red flush of her cheeks. He knew she needed to get to bed, or else she would be hurting in the morning.

When the minute stretched longer with no answer from him, Feyre shifted uncomfortably and turned to unlock her door. "Nevermind. I...you…"

"Feyre," Rhys's grip was gentle as he took her hand. She wouldn't look at him. "Perhaps you could make me some tea? I feel a headache coming on."

She let out a puff of air, turning to eye him carefully. After a moment, she opened her apartment door and went inside, leaving it open for Rhys to follow behind. He really hoped he hadn't pissed her off, but she walked on into the kitchen without a word.


	7. Chapter 7

Rhys carefully sat down at the small kitchen table as Feyre put the kettle on. She set out cups, sugar, milk, and then placed a loaf of bread she had made earlier on the table, too.

Through all of this, she was quiet. He wondered if she was really upset, or if she was just trying to focus on her movements through the haze of alcohol. Either way, the quiet was unnerving. Rhys was almost too nervous to say anything, but he needed to break the silence somehow. "You made bread?"

Feyre finally sat down across from him and let out a sigh. "Yes, banana. I...I need to eat something, I think." She placed a hand over her eyes and another sigh escaped her mouth. "I might have had too much to drink."

Rhys hid a smile. "What gave you that idea?"

Her scowl spoke volumes. "I really can't believe I let Cassian goad me like that. Really, I'm not usually such an idiot."

"Cassian brings that out in a lot of people," he chuckled. "You're not the first." Rhys reached over and started to cut a few slices of bread, and Feyre got up to grab the kettle as it started to boil. "Did you have fun, though?"

With a look over he shoulder, Feyre smiled. "Yes, I did." She could hear the unasked question in his voice, and Feyre marveled at Rhys's uncertainty of her. She figured that her infatuation with him must be written all over her every glance, every touch. Mother above, she blushed every time he so much as breathed near her. To think he was worried that she didn't enjoy being around him was slightly amusing. "I find that I enjoy myself a lot when I'm around you and your friends."

She brought the kettle over to the table, startled by the serious expression on Rhys's face. His gaze was dark, intense, and Feyre felt a sudden chill. He opened his mouth to say something, but suddenly that chill turned to a wave of nausea and Feyre had to run from the room and into the bathroom.

She didn't get to hear what he was about to say.

All of those shots came rushing back, and Feyre was violently ill. Luckily, she made it to the bathroom in time. Unluckily, she was now hurling up her guts while a concerned Rhys followed her into the bathroom.

"Feyre?" His hands were on her back, and he gently rubbed circles. When she started to retch again, he swept her hair from her face and pulled it back and out of the way. "It's okay. Deep breaths."

Now, Feyre was turning pink out of mortification and dread. This was the least sexy thing she had ever done in front of a man, and that included the time she had tripped and fallen face-first into a puddle while out with Isaac. Cauldron, yes, this was much, much worse.

"Rhys, you don't have to stay here." She tried to swat away his hands and missed. "Go. I'll be fine."

His hands left her back and Feyre was suddenly disappointed that he'd listened, but then she felt a cool cloth against the back of her neck. "I'm not leaving you like this, Feyre darling. I saw how much you drank tonight, and I'm not going until you're safely tucked into bed."

She huffed out a laugh. "Not how I imagined you taking me to bed." And then she groaned as another wave wracked her body. This time, though, when she was finished, Feyre was sure the worst had passed. Now that much of the alcohol was out of her system, she felt slightly less like shit. "Really, I'm fine. I just need to put something in my stomach and get some sleep."

Rhys ignored her. Instead, he wiped her face with the washcloth and tucked her hair behind her ear. He looked her over carefully, slowly, and when he was satisfied that she wasn't going to throw up again, he gently lifted her from the floor of the bathroom and tucked her into his arms.

Feyre protested. "Really, Rhys. This is embarrassing enough without you carrying me."

He gazed down at her, his violet eyes bright with something she couldn't name. "Let me take care of you, Feyre darling."

This time, she didn't protest.

He carefully carried her down the hall and into her bedroom, setting her gently on the bed. His gaze strayed around the room for a moment, taking in the pictures and a string of lights. His attention, though, was focused solely on the woman in front of him. She was frowning up at him through her dark lashes. "Don't look at me like that," he said, reaching over to grab what looked like a nightshirt from the end of the bed. "I'll go and fix you something to eat, and you should change into something more comfortable. Is the aspirin in the bathroom?"

Feyre huffed, "Yes. It is." When she tried to sit up a wave of dizziness overtook her and she flopped back down against the pillows. "You really don't have to do this, Rhys." She should probably be more thankful, but her embarrassment was making that a little difficult.

"Get changed." He ordered, but his eyes were soft. "I'll be back in a few minutes."

He left her, padding back down the hallway and into the kitchen. The tea was still hot, so he poured her a cup and added a small touch of milk. He left the sugar out, not wanting to upset her stomach anymore. Then, he finished slicing some pieces of banana bread and slathered it with some butter. He hoped this would settle well, although he was fairly certain the worst was over. She would feel like shit in the morning, for sure, but she was probably safe from any more heaving.

Stopping by the bathroom, he grabbed some aspirin and made his way back to her room. She was sitting on the edge of the bed, clad in only a large t-shirt. Rhys swallowed hard and forced his eyes away from the exposed length of her legs. It was not easy. When his eyes finally met hers, she was smirking slightly.

"Do you take care of everyone like this?" She asked, mumbling a thank you when he handed her the food and pain medicine.

"Not generally, no. Mor is nasty and violent when she's hungover so I try to steer clear, Cassian just passes out, and Azriel never seems to get drunk." He grinned at her, "No, Feyre darling, you're just special."

She chewed on a mouthful of bread, feeling a little better now that she has something solid in her stomach. "I don't feel very special," she said finally. "I am pretty mortified, actually."

Rhys leaned against the door frame and tucked his hands into his pockets. "I've seen worse." She raised an eyebrow in question so Rhys continued, "Construction can be a nasty business at times. I've seen a guy lose some fingers using a wet-saw, there have been some concussions from falling debris, and you should've seen my foot after the cinder block fell on it. A little vomit doesn't bother me."

She took another bite of bread and didn't reply.

"Are you feeling any better?" He asked after a moment.

Feyre looked at him, studying him closely, and then she scooted over on her bed, patting the spot next to her. "Sit with me. And yes, thank you, I am feeling better."

Rhys hesitated for a moment, and then he pushed off the wall and gingerly sat on the edge of the bed. The mattress dipped with his weight sending Feyre's hip bumping into his. He stilled, acutely aware of every inch of her that was now pressed against his side. She was warm and soft next to him, and despite his very best efforts, his eyes strayed to her gloriously long, bare legs. He followed the hem of that damn t-shirt as it dipped over her thighs, and Rhys had to stick his hands back in his pockets to keep from reaching out and touching her.

Mother above, how he wanted to touch her.

When she settled her head against his shoulder, he let out a small noise. "Something wrong, Rhys?" She asked, and he could hear the laughter in her voice.

"Feyre," his voice was a low growl, "how is your stomach feeling?"

Her head snapped up, eyes wide as she looked at him. That was not the thing she thought he would say to her. "Better, thank you. But you already asked me that."

He stood abruptly, sending her falling back against the pillows. "I'll let you get some sleep, then. You have to work tomorrow and you should probably get some rest." He stayed just long enough to place a quick, chaste kiss on her cheek before he was out of the room and gone, vanished like a wisp of smoke. Feyre sat there, stunned. Her cheeks flushed deep crimson and her stomach roiled again, this time with a strange shame and confusion. Cauldron boil her, what had just happened?

She wracked her brain for some clue as to Rhys's abrupt departure, but she couldn't figure out why he had just run away.

All of the confidence she had been feeling at Rita's slipped from her, and she was left feeling nauseous and empty and suddenly exhausted. She wanted to chase after him and ask him what was going on, but he was right about her needing some sleep. A glance at the clock told her she had to be up and leaving for work in about five hours, so she slipped under the blankets. If sleep came, she knew it would not be as restful as she needed.

And she spent most of the night worrying over Rhys.

* * *

"I'll see you next week, Jesminda. Have a good afternoon." Feyre stood at her office door, watching as her young patient shuffled out of the room without a word. For the second day in a row, her entire session had been silence, just like yesterday's disastrous sessions.

Except for this time, Feyre's head had been pounding noisily behind her eyelids. A hangover of epic proportions had greeted her when she woke this morning, and it had taken all of her energy and effort to show up for work and act professionally today. Which was not good, considering it was only her second day of seeing patients. It was hard to tell much of anything from her silent patients, but she had been praying all morning that none of them noticed she was not completely herself.

With a sigh, she took a seat behind her desk, threw back a few more aspirins, and swallowed half a bottle of water. Luckily, Jesminda had been her last patient today, so she didn't have to pretend to be awake and attentive anymore. There was some paperwork to take care of, but she could head home soon enough and crawl under her blankets and not come out until the morning. That also left her time to sulk and worry about what had happened with Rhys last night.

Who was she kidding? She had been sulking and worrying about Rhys all day, but she hadn't had a chance to call him or text him and figure out what she had done. Now, though, she had time.

Picking up her phone, she was just about to text his number when her office door opened.

"Ms. Archeron?" A tall figure stepped through her doorway and Feyre immediately straightened, setting her phone down quickly. Her boss stood there in her doorway and Feyre cursed in her head.

"Mr. LaFleur, what can I do for you?" She stood, smoothing her skirt down with her hands.

He stepped fully into the room and smiled warmly at her, "Our bi-weekly progress meeting? Did you forget?"

Shit. "Oh! No, of course not. I thought I was meeting with Leslie, though." Feyre _had_ completely forgotten about the progress meeting, and today was probably the worst day ever for this to be happening.

Mr. LaFleur smiled again, his green eyes sparkling. If she had been in a better mood, she might appreciate that he was here to help her. At the current moment, though, she wished he would just go away. "Leslie is your mentor, yes, but all progress meetings will happen with me. Perks of being the clinic director, I suppose." He flashed another grin in her direction.

Feyre pressed her lips into a thin line to keep from scowling. "Of course. Please, come in Mr. LaFleur."

"Tamlin, please," he said as he took a seat in one of the armchairs and motioned for her to sit across from him. "There's no need to be so formal. We'll be working closely together, at least for your first three months while you get acclimated to the office and your patients. So, please call me Tamlin."

Feyre made herself smile and relax, remembering that this man was her boss and she probably shouldn't be rude. "Tamlin, then," and then she added, "it's Feyre."

He smiled at her again, sitting back in the chair with a confidence and ease that seemed to pour from him like sunlight. He filled the small space of her office in a way that made Feyre feel too small. He was young, she thought, younger than what she imagined the director of the clinic would be. When she was first applying she imagined a white-haired old man. Instead, she was met with a thirty-something that obviously spent lots of time in the gym. At some other time she might have thought he was handsome, but lately, her thoughts had been so filled with violet eyes and wicked grins that she hardly noticed much of anything else anymore. His presence was impossible to ignore, though.

"Shall we get started?" His voice pulled her from her musings and Feyre straightened. It didn't matter that she had a horrible hangover or that she was worried over Rhys, this was her job. She needed to focus and prove she was fit to be here. "Let's go over your patient notes."

Taking a soothing breath, Feyre began to explain how her first patient meetings had gone.

And, an hour later, she was relieved the meeting had happened. Despite the times she thought that Tamlin might be flirting with her, he was obviously good at his job and had offered her lots of insights into how to better help her patients. He gave her some tips for the silent ones, which she desperately needed, and he helped her set up some possible goals to work toward with each patient. While she knew that things wouldn't magically get better, she felt more confident going into her next few appointments.

She knew she could do this job and do it well, but perhaps it wasn't a bad thing to seek help every now and then.

"Thank you, Tamlin. Good night." Feyre headed out of the building, waving back at Tamlin as he made his way back to his own office.

It had been a very long day. But, she was feeling better about her work, even if she was still feeling the after-effects of her drinking last night.

And she was still worrying over Rhys's strange behavior.

She couldn't help but think that he had been completely turned off by her vomiting session last night. Even though he told her to let him take care of her, she was convinced that was the reason he'd left so quickly. Or maybe he'd been put off by the fact that she'd had so much to drink in the first place. Or, maybe she had just been reading the signs all wrong from the beginning.

Brow furrowed, she checked her phone. Her heart sped up a little when she saw a text from Rhys.

 _How's the hangover, Feyre darling?_

She scowled a little, but couldn't help the grin that took over at seeing his text. He was still talking to her, so that was a good sign.

 _Prick_. She texted back.

It didn't take long for her phone to buzz again, and Feyre's cheeks ached a little with the smile stretching across her face.

 _Wicked little thing._

 _I have a surprise for you, but maybe I should just keep it to myself…_

Her response was immediate. _Maybe you should._

This time, it took a little longer for his answer to come back. _I hope you're joking, Feyre darling. Because I really wanted to see you tonight._

A chill spread across her skin. _I'll be home in five minutes._

 _I'll be waiting._

She tucked her phone into her purse and kept walking. She was almost feeling normal again, her headache nearly gone. Her stomach, though, was fluttering with a sensation that she now came to associate with anything Rhys.

The tension between them had to break soon, or else Feyre was sure she was going to combust and burn with the intensity of what he made her feel. This was all new to her, these feelings. Her relationship with Isaac had been physical, yes, but he hadn't set her every nerve on fire with just a glance. And she had been able to think about things other than Isaac. Lately, her mind had been clouded in a smoky haze of Rhys. He consumed her thoughts, but if she were honest with herself, she liked it.

She truly hoped he might feel the same, too.


	8. Chapter 8

Rhys tried to tell himself that he wasn't watching the stairway, but it was a complete lie and he knew it. Ever since her text had come through, he had been prowling the landing and anxiously waiting for her to get home.

Last night he had bolted from her apartment because he was afraid of what he might do if he had to sit next to those long, bare legs for a second longer. The temptation to run his fingers from her kneecap up her thigh had been so strong, his hands were shaking as he left her room. He knew that he probably caused Feyre some confusion and more than a little worry, but he really hadn't wanted to take advantage of her in the state she was in. Even though she was probably mad, he hoped she would appreciate his attempt at keeping chivalry alive.

Plus, he had a plan for tonight that should make up for his sudden departure.

Finally, he could hear footsteps ascending the staircase. Casually, he leaned against the frame of her doorway and tried to pretend he hadn't just been pacing.

"Hello, Feyre darling." He cooed, surprised by just how elated he was to see her, even if she was scowling.

"You disappeared last night," she blurted, turning a little pink but not softening her glare.

Rhys waited until she got closer, watching her put the key in the door lock. He leaned in and let his lips hover above the shell of her ear. "I'm here now."

He saw her shiver, but she didn't say anything else as she opened the door to her apartment and stepped inside. He waited a moment, a grin stretching across his face as he listened to her soft gasp, and then he stepped up behind her. Feyre was standing in her entryway, bag dangling from her fingertips and mouth dropped open.

"What is this?" She breathed, taking in the soft candlelight burning throughout her apartment, the table covered and laden with what looked like a three-course meal, and music humming in the background.

Rhys brought his hands up to her shoulders and cupped a palm around the back of her neck, gently kneading her warm skin. He stepped up close, bringing her back to his chest. "I owe you dinner," he said into her hair. Last night, he had used up all of his self-restraint when he left her to sleep. Now, he wasn't inclined to hold back. He just hoped she was ready.

"Dinner?" Her voice was faint, dreamy, and he noticed that her eyes were closed and she was leaning back into him as if she might fall asleep.

He grinned. "Yes, darling. Dinner. You know, where two people sit down and enjoy sustenance." He grabbed her shoulders a little more firmly and propelled her father into the apartment. "You should change into something comfortable and I will pour you a glass of wine."

Feyre looked him over for a long moment, appraising in her glance. She looked like she wanted to say something - perhaps some sassy remark - but she turned and went down the hall to her bedroom without a word.

A moment later, her voice carried down the short hallway. "Do I want to know how you managed to get into my apartment?"

Rhys formed a particularly wicked grin. "I can't give away all my secrets."

There was a slight pause. "So Azriel did it?"

He swore softly under his breath, but it must not have been quiet enough because Feyre's laugh met his ears just before she came back into view. She smiled at him, and Rhys thought it was the most incredible thing he had ever seen.

"I hope this is okay," she said, gesturing to the large, thick sweater she had pulled on over a pair of simple leggings. Her uncertainty was showing, too, so Rhys carried a glass of wine over to her and gently kissed her cheek, letting his lips linger.

"Delicious," he mumbled.

She flushed pink, swallowing half of her glass of wine. "I hope you mean the food." She moved toward the kitchen table, letting her hands slide over the crisp white tablecloth. "Did you cook all of this?"

Rhys joined her at the table and leaned against a chair. "Would it impress you if I said yes?" She raised an eyebrow and said nothing. He smirked. "No, I didn't. But that's probably for the best."

Carefully, he pulled out a chair and gestured for Feyre to sit.

This dance they were doing was slow and sensuous, but the tension in the room was building rapidly. Rhys could not take his eyes off of Feyre, and she seemed content to watch him over the top of her wine glass. They talked as they ate, touching on simple, easy subjects like Rhys going back into the office soon, and Feyre's second day with patients. What they really wanted to say, though, shimmered in the air between them like the heat from the candle flames that filled the room.

Rhys knew that Feyre responded to him when he was near her. He had seen her cheeks flush enough times to know that something about him made her catch her breath. But he wasn't completely sure that she felt the same strong tug that he did. It was a strange longing, this need to touch her constantly, and he was nearly desperate to explore where this pull led him.

Feyre, in her own head, was wondering what Rhys had planned. His gestures spoke volumes, but her insecurities had her second guessing every look that passed between them. She tried to quiet her brain and ignore the constant stream of "what if?" that ran through her head. And it wasn't that hard, actually, when those violet eyes caressed over her skin the way they were right now.

"Have you had enough to eat, Feyre darling?"

She looked down at her empty plate, tilting her head to the side and asking, "is there dessert?"

He chuckled. "If you want it, yes. There is."

She leaned back, considering him. "And if I want to have dessert later?"

He placed his arms on the edge of the table and leaned forward, his voice low and deep. "We can have dessert whenever you want, Feyre."

"And what happens next?" She breathed the question.

Rhys said nothing, but stood from his seat and walked around the table to offer Feyre his hand. She took it, standing, and followed as he led her down the hallway of her apartment toward her bedroom.

"Rhys?" She asked, a little shocked at his brazenness. Was he really leading her right into bed? The thought thrilled her and caused her heart to dance wildly in her chest. But instead of throwing her onto the bed as she imagined, he moved to the French door that led out to her small balcony. Blankets and pillows had been spread over the tile, and Feyre looked up at Rhys in wonder. "What else do you have planned tonight?"

The look in his eyes was almost feral as he pulled her close and wrapped his hands over the curve of her hips. "Whatever you want." His voice was a growl in his throat.

There was a suspended moment where the only thing that existed was the gaze between them and the breath they shared. Feyre felt herself hesitate for just a second, tearing her eyes away from his to glance at his lips. Surprisingly, there was no question in her usually racing mind. Right now, the only thought she could form was "Rhys…"

And then his lips were on hers.

The heat and intensity of his kiss sent her toes curling and her fingers wrapping up in the fabric of his shirt. She wanted him closer. She wanted him wrapped around her.

As if reading her thoughts, Rhys arms pulled Feyre's body up and into his, setting them flush against each other. His lips were slow, savoring the taste of her, but there was a barely restrained intensity in every breath that escaped him. He was sure that he was about to combust. He was sure that this was the most vivid fantasy of his life and that it couldn't all really be happening because he had been dreaming of this moment for so long now. When a whimper escaped her, though, Rhys's blood pounded through him and he knew that this was very, very real.

He slipped his hands down over her hips, her ass, and lifted until her legs were wrapped around him. He growled. Feyre's hands were in his hair, pulling him closer to deepen their kiss, and then she started grinding

Rhys felt his heart stop in his chest before picking up in a wild tattoo.

"Feyre," he panted, pulling his mouth away from hers and opening his eyes. Her cheeks were flushed and her hair mussed. "Tell me what you want."

Those steel grey eyes peered into his, searching. Her hands came down from his hair and moved to cup his cheeks. Slowly, she licked her lips. And then she answered, "You, Rhys."

All coherent thoughts vanished from his head and the only thing that was left was the feel of her pressed up against him. He wanted her bare so he could worship every inch of skin, taste every freckle, and memorize ever sound that came out of her as he explored. Slowly, he lowered her to the floor of the balcony, setting her in the nest of pillows and blankets. He let his hands linger over her curves as he sat up, kneeling in front of her.

Carefully, watching her eyes as he did so, Rhys lifted the edge of her sweater and slid it over her head, exposing her creamy skin. She was not wearing anything under it, so her peaked breasts were now open for exploration. Sliding his hands up her sides and over her rib cage, Rhys bent his head to take a pert nipple into his mouth. She gasped. He sucked a little harder. His hands cupped her breasts and he switched to the other side, eliciting another delicious sound from her mouth.

"Rhys…" she panted, clutching at him desperately.

He grinned. "Patience, Feyre darling." His eyes seared her skin as he looked her over. "I plan to take my time." Slowly, so very slowly, his hands traveled back down her torso and stopped at the waistband of her leggings. He tugged, savoring every new inch of skin that was revealed to him. He felt himself grow hotted when he noted she wasn't wearing any panties, either. "Hoping for something tonight?"

Her eyes were closed and her head was tilted back as she flipped him off and said nothing. He laughed.

Finally, Rhys removed her leggings.

"You are magnificent," he breathed. Grabbing onto her ankles with his hands, Rhys started a slow path up her body, trailing kisses as he went.

Feyre tried not to move, but every cell within her being was screaming out for him to do more, touch more, move more, and she could not contain her want. "Rhys," she begged. "Please." His mouth touched the inside of her knee, then her kneecap, then her thigh. As he moved higher, his tongue joined in the exploration and she felt ready to burst even then when he had barely touched her and had yet to reach the place she wanted him most. Another kiss on her hip bone. Again on the inside of her thigh, so close.

And then…

"Mother above," she cried, and her hands immediately went to Rhys's hair.

He kissed her clit. The scent of her had him growing hard, had him seeking out every ounce of strength and restraint he possessed. When he tasted her, slowly trailing his tongue over her opening, he delighted in the whimpers that escaped her mouth. Pinning her hips with his hands, Rhys took his time savoring the taste and softness of her. His tongue lathed up and down, in and out. He nipped at her, feeling her shake beneath him. Keeping one hand on her hips, he moved the other to join his mouth.

One finger, then two, slipped into the wet warmth as his teeth gently bit at her.

Feyre's breathing increased and her hands gripped at his head and shoulders. "Rhys." Her voice was raw and broken. "Rhys...I'm…" and she shattered, breaking over his fingers and mouth as he slowly worked her through her orgasm.

When her breathing evened a little, Rhys sat back, a feral grin on his face at the satisfied flush of her body. She sat up then, roughly grabbing the hem of his shirt and pulling it over his head. Her fingers fumbled on the buckled of his belt, and Rhys grabbed her hand in his. "Let me." Feyre sank back down on the pillows, her eyes hungry as Rhys stood, unbuttoning his pants and sliding the zipper down painstakingly slow. They dropped into a puddle at his feet, and Feyre's eyes widened to see that he wasn't wearing anything underneath, either.

"Now who's cocky?" She mumbled, drinking in the site of his naked body. Rhys chuckled, letting her look. "What's the tattoo?" she asked, seeing the black swirling lines in their entirety for the first time.

Rhys dropped to his knees in front of her again, quirked an eyebrow. "You really want to talk about my tattoos right now?"

Feyre's grin was naughty and fierce. "Feeling left out?"

His answer was to grab a palm-full of her ass, lifting her hips and pulling her toward him. He caught her lips, biting and nipping at her as their bodies touched fully for the first time. He hissed. Her skin was so unbelievably warm and soft, and the need within him grew. When her fingers slipped between them and grabbed his length, Rhys thought he might lose it right there. Her fingers wrapped around him, pumping slowly up and down. It felt so damn good, but it wasn't what he wanted.

He pulled her hand away, searching her face as he settled his hips over hers. "Are you sure?" he questioned. He wasn't sure he could stop now, but he needed to be sure. He needed to know she wanted this, too.

Feyre's eyes stayed locked on his as she lifted her hips and rubbed the length of him in her wetness, moving until his tip rested against her entrance. Still gazing into his violet eyes, she lifted even more and took him. At the first feel of her heat on his hardness, Rhys lost all composure and could not hold back anymore. Roughly, he squeezed her ass in the palms of his hands and thrust, sheathing himself inside of her in one swift motion.

They both moaned.

Sweat slicked their skin and stars danced above them as they dance and writhed together. Rhys sat back on his heels, lifting Feyre into his lap and sending his cock deeper. She worked her hips against his. Her breath was hot on his neck, his face, and she grabbed his mouth in another kiss. When her tongue touched his, mimicking the thrust and pull of their bodies, Rhys let out a growl and increased his pace.

The world around them ceased to exist. At this moment, all that did exist was skin and heat and passion. Rhys could form no other thought but her name, and he whispered it like a prayer into the nighttime.

The feel of her wrapped around him, hot and wet against his skin, was heavenly. He thrust harder, deeper, marking her skin with his teeth as he nipped at her shoulder and neck, bruising her lips with his kisses. Nothing else mattered at this moment but her feeling of him inside of her, and Rhys knew he was close. He broke their kiss, pulling back just slightly and sliding his hand between them. His thumb brushed her clit and Feyre cried out, bucking against him harder and faster than before.

When they both came, hard and intense, Feyre felt her vision go black for a second before the world around her exploded in color and light. She could feel Rhys shuddering beneath her, and she moved her hips in slow circles, drawing out his pleasure.

"Fuck, Feyre." He panted, finally opening his eyes which were alight and alive with hunger.

A lazy grin slid across her face and she stretched her arms above their bodies. Rhys was still buried inside her, and her movement caused him to shiver and curse again. "I think we just did that, Rhys."

A bark of laughter sounded in her ears. Rhys grabbed her chin between his finger and thumb, leaving a long, slow kiss on her mouth. "Magnificent," he mumbled between more kisses. Feyre shivered, the coolness of the night air finally breaking through to caress her heated skin. Rhys noted her goosebumps, moving to gently lift her off of his length. She pouted at the loss of him. "Let's get inside. You're cold."

Feyre didn't want to leave this moment or come down from this high, but he was right. The air was rapidly getting cooler and the sweat on her skin was drying as the heat dissipated. Rhys handed her her sweater, grabbing his own pants and pulling them on over his hips.

"Is there really dessert?" She asked, remembering their dinner and his earlier promise.

Another smirk. "That wasn't enough for you, Feyre?"

"I could never get enough of you, Rhys." Her answer surprised them both, but she knew that she meant it. When she was standing again, she grabbed Rhys by the belt and pulled him into her again to capture his mouth in a kiss. "But I really want chocolate."

Laughter danced in his eyes. "I just might have something to satisfy that craving." He scooped her up in his arms, carrying her back inside.

"I hope that wasn't an attempt at a pickup line," she quipped, and Rhys let out another bark of laughter.


	9. Chapter 9

In the kitchen, Rhys set Feyre down on the counter. She had only pulled on her sweater, so her legs were still bare, nearly all of them showing as the hem of her shirt pulled upward when she sat. He let his gaze linger at the apex of her thighs where her heat was barely hidden, growling low in his throat but turning away. He opened the door of the fridge and let the cold air kiss his heated skin. "You're lucky, Feyre darling."

She was grinning. "Why's that?"

He turned with a plate in his hands. "Because I have half a mind to take you again there on that counter, but I will restrain myself so you can have your chocolate." He lifted the plate, showing off the black forest cake he held.

Her smile widened and she turned to pull smaller plates from the cabinet next to her head. "I promise I will make it up to you." She hopped down from the counter, her sweater catching on the edge and exposing most of her before falling back down to the tops of her thighs. Rhys's eyes darkened, so she grabbed the cake and made her way to the table, stopping any chance he had at getting his hands on her.

At the table, she cut a large slice of cake and went to take a seat. Rhys beat her to it, though, stealing the chair she was about to sit in. Instead, he grabbed her hips and pulled her down into his lap.

"Chocolate first," she admonished. Rhys plucked the fork from her fingers, saying nothing as he took a piece of cake onto the fork and lifted it to Feyre's mouth. She closed her eyes and moaned, and Rhys grew hard again. If she felt his arousal, she didn't say anything, instead motioning for him to feed her another bite.

"You're killing me," he said, voice strained and low. He watched her lips close over the fork slowly, and he knew she was doing this on purpose. "You wicked thing."

Feyre licked her lips clean of chocolate. "Poor thing," she cooed, letting her fingers drag over his skin. They trailed down his neck and over his shoulders, resting on his chest. "Now will you tell me about your tattoo?" She traced a path across the inky black swirls on his skin.

Rhys cleared his throat, taking a fork-full of cake before he answered. "They're Illyrian. Ancient. My mother was of Illyrian descent, and she told me stories of the heroes and warriors in the tribes. When the men came of age, they had to compete in a trial to earn their place as a warrior. When they passed the trial, these were the tattoos they received." He pointed to the lines on his shoulders and higher up on his chest. Then, he took her hands in his, moving them to sit over his heart. "This part I added later. Mourning symbols, for my family." He cleared his throat again. "After they died, Cassian, Azriel and I all went together to get tattooed."

"They're beautiful," Feyre said, squeezing his hands in hers. "You're beautiful."

His eyes crashed into hers, searching. A shiver walked its way up Feyre's spine, but she held Rhys's gaze.

After a long moment, he asked, "Are you done with dessert?"

Her eyes flicked over his shoulder to the cake, and she smiled. "Why do you ask?"

His voice was low, "are you finished, Feyre darling?"

A smirk. "Yes."

Standing, Rhys lifted Feyre in his arms. He carried her down the hall and into the bathroom, setting her gently on the counter. He brushed his hands up her bare thighs, slipping them under the hem of her shirt and lifting it up and over her head before tossing it to the side. Settling his hands on either side of her, Rhys leaned in and set his lips on her neck. Feyre let out a whimper.

"I am very quickly becoming addicted to the taste of you, Feyre." He spoke into her skin, trailing kissing over her collarbone and up the side of her neck.

She sighed, dragging her hands over his shoulders and back, letting her nails scratch lightly as she moved. Heat rose inside of her and every inch of her was electrified. "Touch me…" she breathed, pulling him closer and wrapping her legs around his waist.

Rhys pulled back slightly, much to Feyre's disappointment. She watched as he slowly unbuttoned his pants, letting them drop to the floor and stepping out of them. Then, he gripped her hips roughly, pulling her off of the counter and into his arms. He turned her, placing her back up against the wall. She gasped, and the feel of his hardness pressed up against her was enough to make her melt, but he didn't kiss her like she wanted him to. Instead, he reached past her and turned on the water in the shower.

"You are a terrible tease," she whined.

Rhys moved his hips into hers, grinning. "I have a very long list of the things I'm going to do to you, Feyre darling." He nipped at her bottom lip, catching it with his teeth and speaking into her mouth. "You'll just have to learn to be patient."

This time, she let out a growl.

* * *

The first thing that woke her was the incessant beeping of her alarm clock. The second thing was the warm hand that was climbing slowly up her inner thigh, burning a path to the very core of her.

She mumbled into her pillow, "Are you ever sated?"

She could hear the smirk in Rhys's voice as he asked, "Is there such a thing as being sated?" And she gasped as he slipped a finger inside of her heat, feeling her wetness. "Apparently not."

"Prick," she panted, rolling on her back and letting him work her into a frenzy.

She had never had so much sex in her life before, and she hadn't thought it possible to have that many orgasms in a row. It had seemed a personal quest of Rhys's to take her over the edge again and again, and Feyre wasn't sure if her body couldn't handle much more. It would be a wonder if she could walk at work today.

Shit. Work.

"Rhys…" she grabbed for his hand, trying to clear the fog in her mind and remember why she needed to get out of bed.

He didn't stop until she shattered around him. Again.

As she gulped down air, Rhys trailed a kiss over her shoulder. "You don't want to be late for work, Feyre." He laughed when he felt her smack his arm.

"Insufferable." She forced herself to leave the warmth of her bed, quickly grabbing clothes and heading into the bathroom before she was tempted back into Rhys's arms. "You're lucky you don't have to get up for work right now. I don't think I slept more than a couple hours last night."

Rhys followed her into the bathroom, leaning against the door frame, his arms crossed over his bare chest. He had, at least, put pants on. "I distinctly remember you begging me for more quite a few times. And I wasn't the one who put her mouth on my co-"

Feyre blushed crimson, stopping Rhys with a smack to the arm. "Rhys!"

"Shy all of a sudden?"

Her middle finger flashed past his face as she left the bathroom and headed into the kitchen.

"You are quite beautiful when you blush, you know." He watched as she flitted around the room, throwing things into a bag and putting the kettle on to boil. "Do you have many patients today?"

She shook her head, "No, thank the Cauldron. Just two today. I have meetings this afternoon, though, and plenty of paperwork to keep me busy." She glanced at the clock and swore. "Shit. I have to go. Will I see you later?"

Rhys grinned. "I suppose so."

Feyre didn't have time to think about what that might mean as she rushed out the door.

* * *

Despite the fact that she was running late, she had forgotten her tea, and she was dead tired, Feyre couldn't keep the grin from her face at the thought of last night. It scared her somewhat, how strongly she felt about Rhys, but she loved being around him. And, well...he had rocked her world so completely she wasn't sure she'd been able to keep herself from jumping on him any time he was near. She didn't think he would mind.

As she neared her office building, she took a second to brush her hair back with her fingers and straighten her blouse. Honestly, she was a hot mess. She didn't have much of a choice though; she had to work.

Luckily, no one seemed to notice that she was a few minutes late when she entered the reception area of the office. Some of the other counselors were in sessions with patients, others were working in their offices, doors open. No one was in the staff break room, which was better for her. She had forgotten all about her tea when she was rushing out this morning, and this would definitely be a day for caffeine.

Much to her disappointment, though, the cupboard was filled with coffee of all kinds, but not a tea bag in sight.

"Mother above…" she sighed, ready to trudge back to her desk and hide.

A voice stopped her. "Feyre, I'm glad you're here."

Her insides froze when she spotted her boss, but she smiled as brightly as she could. "Mr. LaFleur, good morning."

He gave her a warm smile, "Tamlin, please." He lifted a bag from his side. "I noticed that we didn't have any tea in the kitchen, so I stopped and picked up your favorite kinds."

Feyre felt the tension slip from her shoulders and she let out a grateful sigh. "You are a savior. Thank you so much."

He seemed pleased with her response, standing a little taller. "Don't forget we have a staff meeting at eight. Please bring the cases we went over yesterday so we can all discuss them."

"Of course, thank you." Now that she had her tea, Feyre didn't much care what she had to do this morning. She wasn't worried about the meeting, and she only had two patients. With any luck, she would get through this day relatively unscathed.


	10. Chapter 10

It did not escape Feyre's attention that the staff meeting was held in the reception area of the office and all of the psychiatrists were now seated on couches. The building was old and used to be divided into family apartments. Now, the clinic's office took up two of those apartments and the shared space between them. Each doctor had a room for their own, and the general living spaces had been made into the reception area and lobby. The set up was interesting but made things feel a little homier and comfortable.

She settled into an armchair, cupping her hands around her steaming tea mug. This meeting happened every week, and all of the psychiatrists presented their cases to the others to get feedback and input on things they might do to better help their patients. Tamlin conducted it all seamlessly, wielding his good looks and charm like a king presiding over his court. The staff obviously respected him, and more than one of the females eyed appreciatively when he talked.

Feyre sat back and watching the whole thing, listening to each of her colleagues and absorbing as much as she could. University prepared her for a lot - she was full of information and skills - but being in the midst of others who did this every day was the best kind of training she could ask for. She kept quiet for most of the meeting, talking only when it was her turn to share her cases. She was slightly embarrassed to admit how much she was struggling with some of her patients, but the others only nodded along as she spoke, looking as if they all knew patients like that and understood her frustration. They offered techniques to try and resources to check into, and she left the meeting feeling confident that she would be able to figure something out.

When it came time for her first appointment, Feyre was calm and ready. It was a much different feeling than her first few sessions. It felt good. It felt like she might actually be able to do well at this job and help others.

It also felt like she had been up all night long doing everything except sleeping. A few times she had to hide a smile when a particular memory invaded her thoughts at an inappropriate moment. It was probably wrong to be thinking about Rhys as her patients confessed their fears and struggles, but she couldn't seem to stop the thoughts from popping in her head.

Not for the first time she wondered what he was up to today and had to resist the urge to look toward her cell phone, which was kept in a drawer in her desk. She used all of her willpower and professionalism to keep focused on her job, giving her attention fully to her last patient so she could try and offer him some help and finish out the day.

* * *

~*~Later that Afternoon~*~

"Feyre, I hoped I would catch you before you left." Tamlin stood in the doorway of her office holding his coat and giving her an appraising look. "Are you heading out now?"

She closed the folder on her desk. "Yes, I just finished with my last set of notes. Is everything okay?"

He smiled and it softened his face. "Of course. I was actually wondering if you might like to get a drink with me. You did well for your first week with patients and I wanted to congratulate you."

Surprise shot through her. "Oh, well, that's kind of you." Her brain was spinning with questions. Could she turn down her boss? Would it be rude to run from the room like she wanted to? How do you decline politely without making it seem like a brush off?

He shifted on his feet just once, his whole posture changing when her answer hadn't come. "It's okay if you don't want to. I wanted to make the offer."

Feyre felt the need to explain. "I appreciate it very much. I'm just so tired. I didn't get much sleep last night and…" a blush tinted her cheeks and she trailed off before she could say something stupid.

His expression softened a little, "Worrying about today?"

To cover her relief, Feyre started to pack her things. "Yes, somewhat. I wasn't sure what to expect from our group meeting."

"You did just fine today." He held the door for her and they walked toward the front together. "I think you're going to be just what this office needs. You are a skilled professional, just give yourself some time to settle in."

Again, surprise and something else flitted through her. "Thank you. That's high praise."

When they reached they reached the front, Tamlin gently touched Feyre's arm and inclined his head in her direction. "Have a good night, Feyre. I hope you're able to get some sleep."

Of course, an image of Rhys between her legs and the memory of his tongue happened in her brain at that moment. To cover the sudden flush of her cheeks, she nodded back and waved a goodnight, hurrying out into the evening.

At home, there was a note stuck in the seam of her door when she reached her apartment. Her heart fluttered a little. Rhys's scrawl met her gaze.

 _There was an emergency at the office and I needed to go in. I'm not sure when I'll be back. You may want to get some rest, anyway, because the next time I see you I plan-_

"Whatcha reading, Feyre?"

She jumped and let out a scream, clutching the note to her heart and turning to face her intruder. "Mother above, Cassian! You scared the shit out of me." When he laughed, she reached over and smacked his arm.

"Is that a love note from Rhys?" He tried to snatch the paper from her hands, but she crumpled it into her fist and backed away.

"It's none of your business, that's what it is." Of course her face radiated heat, which only made Cassian laugh louder.

"Why, Feyre, you're turning incredibly red for just a simple note."

She sent him a glare and flipped him off, turning to unlock her door. "If you ever want me to cook for you again, you'll stop right there." When she entered her apartment, Cassian followed, whistling when he took in the still decorated table.

"Damn," he said, scanning the room. "Rhys didn't hold anything back."

Another steamy image flitted through her brain. She hid her face in the fridge, grabbing a water.

"Did you need something, Cassian?"

He pretended to look wounded. "I can't stop by to check in on my friend?"

The look on her face was unamused. "What's the bet this time?"

"Bet? What kind of monster do you take me for?" He clutched a hand to his chest, leaning a hip against the counter. "I am just here to say hi to my neighbor and make sure she's doing okay."

Feyre waited, knowing that there was more.

"...and there were some very strange, loud noises coming from your apartment last night, I just wanted to-" he erupted in laughter as Feyre threw the bottle in her hands at him, drenching him with water.

"Out!" She yelled, pushing his hulking form back through the door and into the hallway. "Insufferable bastard," she seethed. "Go away. And tell Azriel that he's in the dog house, too. I know you're in on this bet!" She yelled the last part toward their apartment, giving Cassian a vulgar gesture and one last shove.

"Oh, Feyre," he chuckled, "welcome to the family."

Her answer was the slamming of her door.

Back inside her apartment, she finished reading the note Rhys left, still blushing profusely. He not only had a way with his hands and mouth, it seemed, he was also quite the writer. She tucked the note into her purse to keep.

With a sigh, she shuffled toward the bedroom to change into something more comfortable. Her week was done, since she had no patients on Fridays, and she was looking forward to some time for relaxing and regrouping from her first full week. Despite the hiccups with her first few patients, the end of the week had gone well. Feyre felt good about things, and it was a relief to get that first week under her belt.

And the incredible sex she'd had last night wasn't hurting things, either.

She grinned to herself, padding back into the kitchen to start cleaning up some of the mess from last night's dinner. On the table, though, was another note.

 _Don't even think about cleaning up. I will take care of everything when I get back from the office. There's a plate of leftovers in the fridge for you and eat as much cake as you want._

"Well, Cauldron boil me…" she mumbled, still smiling. She could absolutely get used to this.

Sure enough, there was a plate in the fridge ready and waiting. She popped into the microwave and took a fork to the cake while her meal heated. A few bites of chocolate wouldn't spoil her dinner, surely. Any anyway, Rhys had said to eat as much as she wanted.

She was about to take another fork-full when a knock sounded at the door. She smoothed her hair, thinking it must be Rhys getting back. Surprise sat on her face when she opened the door to find Cassian and Azriel standing in the hallway, looking quite pitiful.

Feyre crossed her arms.

"Feyre," Cassian started, trying his best to give her puppy-dog eyes. "Azriel and I are very sorry if we upset you."

Her gaze flitted between the two of them, sizing them up. "What do you want?"

The beeping of the microwave met their ears and Cassian looked over Feyre's shoulder. "Do you need any help with that food?" Feyre swore she saw him sniff the air.

Azriel decided to chime in, too. "We know that Rhys ordered from Rita's, and there's always so much.…" He trailed off. His puppy-dog look was a little more convincing than Cassian's.

Feyre looked them over again, her lips pressed into a thin line. "You tell me what the bet was, and I'll think about letting you in here."

Cassian sent Azriel a sidelong glance, hoping he would take the brunt of this question. "Bet?" The tone of his voice was innocent but the look on his face said otherwise. Feyre just stood there and waited, her eyes steely.

Azriel sighed. "I thought you would have figured it out by now, knowing Cassian." He gave Feyre a slightly apologetic look. "We were betting on how long it would take for you and Rhys to sleep together."

The microwave beeped again, reminding them that her food was ready. Feyre just leaned against the door, arms still crossed. "And?"

Another glance between the two men. Feyre had to hold back her grin at their nervousness. She liked making them sweat a little. Their betting was embarrassing, especially since it was about her sex life this time, but harmless. She just wanted to give back some of the grief they were constantly giving her.

Cassian cleared his throat. "Azriel won."

Her eyes narrowed at them both as she weighed her options. She had no idea when Rhys would be back, there was quite a bit of food in her fridge, and despite their being insufferable bastards…She opened the door wider and motioned for them to enter.

"No cake." She said sternly. "And the first time one of you buffoons makes some dirty comment about me or Rhys, I will kick your ass AND I will never cook for you again."

To their credit, they both offered her a small bow in acquiescence.

It was probably a good thing they had begged their way in, really. Her fridge was packed with the food from last night - chicken tikka masala and tandoori chicken, Malai Kofta, naan bread, cabbage foogath and rice - a veritable Indian feast. As delicious as it all was, she knew she would never be able to finish it. Azriel and Cassian, however, had no such problems. Their plates were piled high, and the grins on their faces made them look like little boys. Hungry boys.

"So," Cassian said after inhaling half of his plate, "is it official now?"

Feyre chewed on some naan, contemplating how to answer. In the midst of all the sex last night, there hadn't really been time for discussion. She didn't think this was a casual thing for either of them, but she also wasn't really sure. Maybe it was just sex? Maybe there was something deeper?

Maybe it was all happening so fast and last night had been a mistake?

"Feyre," Azriel's dark, smooth voice broke through her racing thoughts. "Stop panicking." When her eyes met his, he smiled at her. "Rhys is crazy about you. I've never seen him like this before. Ever." His hazel eyes shifted to Cassian for a second, sending the man a dirty look, before settling back on her. "Don't let Cassian get in your head. He's just jealous and sexually frustrated."

She returned his smile, although it was obvious she was still lost in thought. Cassian nearly spit out his drink, coughing into his plate. He looked at Azriel and put a hand to his chest, wounded. "I would argue with you, but Feyre just fed me and I don't want to get my ass kicked."

"And I'm right."

Cassian flipped Azriel off and stuff another bite of food into his mouth.

Feyre kept replaying that question, though, suddenly uncertain and nervous. It was stupid, really, to worry about how Rhys was feeling. He had done so many things to show her that he cared about her. But still, it was difficult to drown out that worry. Even though Azriel assured her that Rhys was serious, Feyre still wanted him to get back so they could talk. She wasn't quite what she wanted from him, but she knew she at least wanted to know where they stood before anything else happened between them.

"Feyre," Azriel's voice, again, brought her attention back to the table. "We'll help you clean up this mess if you're done eating."

She mentally shook herself and let go of her worry for a moment. "Yes, I'm done. Help would be great."

As goofy and playful as they both could be, Feyre was really fond of the two men helping her. They were always looking out for her, and she was happy they had come into her life. She knew, no matter where she and Rhys stood, that she would treasure this friendship for as long as it lasted, and she hoped it was a long time.

"Thanks for feeding us. Again." Cassian wrapped Feyre in a big bear hug, lifting her feet off the ground as he squeezed. "You're our favorite neighbor."

This time, she let out a loud laugh. "I'm your only neighbor."

He set her down again, grinning madly. "Still. Favorite."

She was surprised when Azriel came over and gave her a hug, too, although he was much more gentle. "Thanks for the food. We'll be across the hall if you need anything."

They left a few moments later, sending the apartment into a sudden quiet. It has been a long week and she was ready to get some rest, but she really hoped that Rhys got home soon and decided to come over.

She sent him a text saying as much and poured herself a glass of wine as she waited for his response. She was overthinking things now, and maybe it would scare him off to have "the talk" so soon, but she needed to settle the anxiousness in her head.

She didn't have to wait long, though, because at the same time her phone buzzed in her hand there was a knock on the door. Rhys looked exhausted standing there, so she ushered him in and poured him his own glass of wine. "Rough night?"

He took a moment to kiss her cheek gently and then plopped himself down on the couch with a sigh. "The HVAC company that was supposed to help us finish the build at the university pulled out at the last minute, which set us back about a week. That means more money, and that means angry clients." He sent her a lazy, tired grin. "I had to sweet talk a few of the university board members tonight."

Feyre sat near him on the couch, tucking her feet underneath her. "Will you be able to keep the contract?"

"Yes, we will. It will cost us a little more on our end, but they wouldn't dare get rid of us at this stage in the construction. We're still the best there is." His violet eyes were bright as he looked at her over the edge of his glass. "How was your day?"

"Good, actually. We had a staff meeting this morning and it went really well. I'm feeling better out my patients, too, which is nice." She took a sip of wine. "I'm happy to have the next few days off, though."

Now his grin turned wicked. "Despite the damage control tonight, I'm still not back to work until Monday." His eyes licked up her legs and over her hips to her face. "That's plenty of time to get into trouble."

Heat rose in her, and she had to swallow another gulp of wine before she could meet his eyes. His intense gaze missed nothing, though, and he asked, "What's wrong?'

"Cassian and Azriel came over tonight, begging for food as usual." She licked her lips, her mouth suddenly dry. "And Cassian asked if we'd made things official."

She watched him carefully, expecting anger or nervousness or some other emotion to cross his face. But his look was cooly blank as he asked, "Is that what you want?"

She couldn't quite meet his gaze. "Is that what you want?" It was probably wrong to put the question back on him, but she was too afraid of putting her foot in her mouth and getting completely embarrassed.

"I asked you first, Feyre darling." His voice was silky and low, causing another flush to creep up her cheeks. "What do you want?"

"I…" she hesitated, so afraid of what was happening at this moment. Rhys caught that hesitation and leaned forward to set his glass on the table. He set Feyre's aside too, and then grabbed her small hands in his, pushing into her space and locking eyes.

"Please don't tell me you regret last night already." When she shook her head a little, he let out the breath that he'd been holding. "Feyre, don't let those two get in your head. This is between you and me." He squeezed her hands, threading his fingers through hers. "What do you want this to be?"

"I don't know." She whispered, but she squeezed his hands back. "I...damnit, Rhys, I like you. I...you make me feel so alive. But…"

It took all of his self-control to wait for her to finish, and Rhys could feel his heart thundering in his chest.

"I don't want to move too fast, either. I don't want to scare you away or...or have you realize you don't feel the same or something." Her eyes were in her lap now, unable to meet Rhys's.

He huffed a laugh and she did look up him then. "You don't have to be worried about scaring me off, Feyre. I would hope that last night would be enough to show you just how I feel."

Although his hands were still in hers, it felt as if he'd just traced his fingers over the entire length of her and goosebumps peppered her skin. She didn't say anything else. She just closed the distance between them, using his hands to pull him closer, and she took his mouth in a kiss. It was a kiss meant to convey the things she couldn't quite find words for, and to see if he tasted as good as she remembered from last night.

He tasted even better.

After a slow exploration of mouths, Rhys pulled back, eyes smoldering. "Let's go to bed, Feyre."

" _Bed_ bed, or bed?"

His chuckle sent a shiver down her spine. "I supposed we'll find out when we get there."

And before she could say anything else, he stood and lifted her up in his arms, carrying her down the hallway to her room.


	11. Chapter 11

They had spent the weekend lounging in Feyre's bed, getting to know each other better. Feyre was amazed at all of the things Rhys could make her feel with just one touch or one look. Rhys was amazed at just about everything this woman did. He hadn't let himself feel much of anything for a long while and getting to know Feyre had things awakening in him that he had forgotten even existed.

They still hadn't defined what this was yet, but Rhys was willing to wait as long as Feyre needed. He didn't want to scare her away, and he also wanted her to be sure of what she wanted, to be sure of him. He would just have to show her, as often as possible, exactly what she made him feel when he was near her. And really, he couldn't seem to keep his hands off of her, so it wasn't that difficult.

"Do you think they're making bets about how long we'll stay in this apartment?" Feyre's sleepy voice, muffled by Rhys's chest, broke the afternoon quiet.

Rhys huffed a small laugh. "Terrible gossips, those three. They'll make bets about anything."

"Three?" Feyre lifted her head a little, tucking in closer to the warmth of his body.

"Don't let Morrigan fool you. She's the worst busybody of them all. She just happens to have a much better poker face." Rhys trailed a hand down her bare shoulder, delighting in the silk of her skin. "Half the time, she's the instigator."

"That feels like a breach of the girl code or something like that." Shivered under his touch, letting her own hands explore the planes of his stomach and chest. Rhys's body was the most beautiful thing Feyre had ever seen, and she couldn't seem to get enough of touching him. "I should yell at her the next time I see her," she finished her thought after a moment, incredibly distracted by the path her hands and decided to take under the blankets.

Rhys's voice was low and heavy when he replied, "Give her hell, Feyre darling."

And then he rolled them over so she was on top of him, and he captured her mouth in a searing kiss.

* * *

Emerging from the bedroom sometime later, Feyre's stomach grumbled loudly in the silence of the apartment. "Damn, I'm hungry." She stated, heading for the kitchen and whatever sustenance she could find.

A wicked grin flashed across Rhys's face as he joined her. "Am I too much for you, then?"

Feyre contemplated throwing the roll that was in her hand toward Rhys's head, but she was too hungry to let go of it. She flipped him off instead. "Prick."

His grin turned sharper and his eyes were dancing with amusement. "That's not what you've been saying all weekend."

Her own eyes narrowed at him. "Prick," she said again, and he laughed.

A loud, incessant banging startled both Feyre and Rhys, and they both turned toward the door of the apartment as someone yelled, "Let us in!"

Rhys recognized Mor's voice, recognized the wild tone of her yelling, and he knew that his quiet weekend with Feyre was about to be over. When he opened the door, his cousin was standing there, grinning wildly, Genevieve at her side.

"Where is Feyre?" She demanded, giving Rhys a pointed look. "You have hogged her enough. We want her back."

Without replying, Rhys opened the apartment door wider, and Mor and Genevieve stormed past him, calling out for Feyre. He had known this would happen at some point, getting interrupted by the gossip girls he called friends. He had just hoped it wouldn't be so soon. Really, though, Rhys should have known better. Everyone in his life loved Feyre, even before they became...whatever this was, and they were all just excited to see him with someone who made him happy for the first time in a very long while. The fact that they consider her a friend, too, meant he would have to share.

Rhys didn't much like sharing Feyre, he decided.

"It smells like sex in here," Mor declared, causing Feyre to blush to the tips of her ears and down her neck. "Feyre, we're here to save you."

"Save me?"

Rhys sauntered back into the kitchen and stood next to Feyre, tucking her under his arm. He sent a warning glare to Mor, hoping his cousin wouldn't mortify the girl too much.

"You've been holed up in this apartment all weekend," Mor declared, "and Gen and I have been dying to see you. So, we're saving you from Rhys, at the very least to give your poor body a chance to recover from all that-"

Gen smacked Mor in the stomach to stop the girl's talking, giving Feyre a gentle smile. "What my lovely girlfriend is trying to say - without much tact, I might add - is that we think it would be great to have a girl's night." Her look to Rhys was less deadly, but still just as pointed. "No boys allowed."

He raised his hands in defeat, leaning over to kiss Feyre on the forehead and whisper in her ear. "Have fun. I'll see you after work tomorrow. Come to my place and I'll make us dinner." He padded off in the direction of the bedroom to get the rest of his clothes and shoes.

Feyre nodded but kept her gaze on Mor and Genevieve. "Should I be scared?"

Both girls laughed, and Mor held up the bag that was in her hands. "Manis, pedis, chocolate, and cheesy romance movies."

"That seems tame enough," Feyre conceded. She looked the girls over, noting their matching grins. "But I'm guessing there will be lots of questions."

Genevieve took the bag from Morrigan's hands, ushering her toward the couch in the living room. "What's a good girl's night without gossip, Feyre?"

Together they started to unpack their bag, essentially taking over Feyre's apartment. Rhys came back through the kitchen to give Feyre another quick kiss before he left. "If she starts giving you too much hell, Feyre darling, ask her about the time she and Cassian slept together."

Mor screeched, "Rhysand!"

"You and Cassian?" Feyre asked, looking her over as if she were trying to picture the petite blond and the brute that was Cassian in a compromising position, even tilting her head to the side and squinting her eyes. "Really?"

Genevieve laughed in the other room, but Mor sent a deadly glare in her cousin's direction. "No. Boys. Allowed." And she shoved him out the door and into the hallway, slamming the door and abruptly cutting off his own laughter. "Now," she turned back into the room, straightening out her sweater and smiling sweetly at Feyre. "I wasn't lying when I said it smelled like sex in here. You should shower before we start the movie, and so I don't die from the scent of... _mating_ …" She feigned a gag.

"I don't want to have a girl's night if you're just going to give me a hard time." Feyre crossed her arms over her chest.

Genevieve came between the two, wrapping an arm around Mor and giving Feyre another gentle smile. "No hard times, we promise. Don't we Mor?" She gave her girlfriend a squeeze. "We're really happy for you and Rhys, and we also miss hanging out with you."

Feyre dropped her arms and gave the two a wry look. She took another bite of the roll in her hands, contemplating the women in front of her. Both of them were giving her large smiles, a hopeful sparkle in their eyes.

"Fine. Let me shower," she turned to Mor and pointed a finger, "but not because I smell."

Mor held up her hands in surrender. "This will be so much fun!" she gushed, clapping her hands together like a little girl. "We'll just get the stuff set up for nails. You take your time."

As Feyre headed back toward the bathroom she called over her shoulder, "And don't think I forgot about the whole Cassian thing!"

She laughed as Mor let out a colorful string of curses.

* * *

Despite the fact that she missed Rhys (and felt a little pathetic thinking about it), Mor did enjoy her night with Genevieve and Morrigan. Two women were giddy and girly and all the things Feyre missed about having sisters. In fact, her own sisters weren't even as playful as her two friends. It was a fun night.

And, she had to admit, getting a full night's sleep was something she needed.

A knock on her office door interrupted her thoughts, and she looked up to see Tamlin in the doorway, smiling at her. He held a vase filled with flowed in his hands.

"Do you have a moment?" He asked, stepping into the room. The space filled with his presence and Feyre felt, not for the first time, a little overwhelmed by the man. "These came for you just now. I thought I would deliver them."

Instantly, Feyre thought of Rhys. "You didn't have to do that. Thank you," She took the vase and lifted the flowers to her face, inhaling deeply. It was a colorful array of tulips and roses, all bright and pastel. Not something she expected Rhys to get her, but it was a nice gesture anyway. "They're lovely."

Tamlin beamed. It was a little awkward, actually, that he was so happy about someone else getting her flowers. "I thought you might say that. I thought they were beautiful, too." He took a seat in one of the armchairs across from her desk, still grinning at her. "Listen, Feyre, there's a company bar-b-q coming up in a couple of weeks, and I was really hoping you would come."

That was not what she was expecting. "Oh, well…" She wasn't quite sure what to say.

Tamlin held up a tanned hand. "You don't have to answer now, of course. But it would be great if you could be there."

"Sure," she smiled. "I'll check my calendar and get back to you."

If possible, his grin stretched wider. He was a handsome man, and she could see how the other women in the office might get a little star-struck around him. When he turned that charm on, it was difficult not to feel breathless.

"Great," he stood, straightening out his slacks. "I'll let you get back to work." When he reached the door, he turned back and gave her another roguish grin. "Enjoy the flowers."

When he was gone, Feyre glanced at the vase again, puzzled at the comment and the gaudy bouquet. It really was not something she could see Rhys picking out for her, nor was it something she would ever really choose for herself. But still, who else would be sending her flowers?

There was a card sitting among the blooms, and she reached out to grab it. Upon reading the words, Feyre frowned, and her stomach dropped slightly.

 _To a beautiful new relationship. I'm lucky to have you._

 _Tamlin_

 _ & the staff_

Of all the things she was expecting, that wasn't it.

She stared at the vase for a little while longer, eyeing it as if it might jump out and bite her at any moment. She understood now why the flowers were so out of character for Rhys, and knowing they were from Tamlin made a lot more sense. And that card…

She shook her head, closing her laptop and pushing away from her desk. She had another patient coming in a few minutes, so she didn't have time to ponder the meaning of this gesture. She also wasn't sure she really _wanted_ to ponder its meaning, because all the thoughts that popped into her mind made her extremely uncomfortable.

* * *

A/N: So sorry for the delay! I teach middle school English had just had to grade 86 writing pieces that were all 12+ pages. Needless to say, I was distracted for a bit! I hope to be back on track with more regular updates. Thank you for reading and your wonderful comments!

\- AJ


	12. Chapter 12

With her last patient gone for the day, Feyre sat back at her desk and worked on getting through her reports and paperwork. Once that was done, she would be able to go home...and see Rhys.

She jumped slightly when a knock sounded on her door, and she tried not to cringe at the thought of Tamlin coming back into her office. When she turned, though, her eyes were met with the sight of Leslie, her mentor, and co-worker. Feyre had to hide her sigh of relief.

"Are you free?" Leslie asked, stepping into the small office.

"Just finishing up some paperwork. Do you want to go over my notes with me?"

Leslie smiled, her petite frame folding into one of the armchairs. The brunette was older than Feyre, but she was kind and welcoming, and she had been a great mentor. Her eyes found the gaudy bouquet on Feyre's desk, and Leslie's smile became a little forced. "Nice flowers." Her tone suggested anything but.

Feyre's eyes flitted to the door, and she leaned in toward Leslie before answering. "They're from Tamlin. A welcome gift, I think."

Leslie's eyes widened, her lips forming a small O. "They're...bright."

"Please tell me he gives all of his new employees flowers."

Leslie finally pulled her eyes away from the vase and gave Feyre a small smile. "Yes, he is pretty generous with his gifts." Her brows furrowed slightly, though, and she tilted her head to the side as if a thought had struck her funny. "But he does seem to be pretty taken with you."

Feyre breathed out a soft curse. "I was hoping he was just an overly friendly guy."

Leslie smiled again, reaching over the desk and patting Feyre's hand soothingly. "It's probably nothing. He's a great boss and he cares a lot about this practice. Although…"

Feyre stared at Leslie, waiting for the rest of the sentence. "Although? What?"

Mischief lit Leslie's eyes. "Unless you want there to be something. Tamlin would make quite the catch."

"I have a…" Feyre's voice caught on the word. Was Rhys her boyfriend? Would it be too forward to call him hers? "I have a guy in my life."

"Ooh, do tell. Is he the reason you look exhausted but completely satisfied?"

Feyre felt her cheeks pinken. "You wanted to go over my notes with me, Leslie?"

The older woman laughed. "I get the hint. But one of these days you're going to have to spill something. I have no one in my life. I'll be living vicariously through you."

Feyre didn't answer, instead, sliding her notes over in Leslie's direction and sitting back in her desk chair.

Together they went over the patients in Feyre's care. Leslie did much the same thing that the other doctors did during the whole staff meeting, except she was specifically there to oversee Feyre's work and help her along. At times, she would be sitting in on Feyre's appointments and working with the patients. Because they were court mandated to be in therapy, more than one person would have to sign off on their release when the patients had finished the program. It also made sure that Feyre had someone checking in on things during her first few months.

She was feeling more confident with each day that passed. Feyre strongly felt that helping other people was her calling, and it was important that she gave this job her very best.

"Everything looks good, Feyre. You're doing excellently." Leslie said after they had gone over all of the notes.

Feyre beamed. "Thanks."

Another knock at the door interrupted their conversation. Feyre felt quite popular today. When her gaze landed on the man standing in the doorway, her heart instantly jumped in her chest.

"Rhys!" Feyre stood up quickly, smoothing out her slacks and walking around her desk to greet him. "What are you doing here?"

Rhys's eyes sparkled, and he reached out to take Feyre's hands when she was close enough. "Nice to see you, too, Feyre darling." His eyes devoured her wholly, traveling slowing over her body until Feyre was sure she would combust. They had seen each other just the other night, but any time spent away from him felt like forever.

A cough in the corner broke Rhys's stare.

"Oh, Rhys, this is Leslie. She's my mentor here and one of the other counselors." Leslie shook Rhys's offered hand, and as she turned to look over her shoulder her wide eyes met Feyre's and she mouthed the word "WOW!"

"Pleasure to meet you, Leslie. I hope I'm not interrupting anything." Rhys stood back at Feyre's side and grabbed her hand again. It was as if he couldn't stand not touching her when she was near.

Leslie waved him off. "The pleasure is all mine, and you're not interrupting anything. In fact, we had just finished up."

Rhys's violet eyes crashed into Feyre's again. "Wonderful. I have plans for us, Feyre darling if you're ready to leave."

"Plans?" Her cheeks were still pink and warm, but her curiosity was piqued. "What kinds of plans?"

Leslie interrupted with another quick goodbye. As she slipped out of the room, Rhys tugged Feyre's hand, sending her body flush up against his own. "Plans." He stated, and then his mouth was on hers and nothing else seemed to exist at that moment.

Feyre let out a moan of satisfaction, clutching at his shoulders and pulling him closer. Dimly, in the back of her mind, she remembered they were in her office and it really wasn't appropriate to have sex with Rhys in here. Although it would be fun.

With effort, she pulled back. His eyes were dark and sparkling, and his lips were swollen from her kiss. "Miss me, Feyre darling?"

She raised an eyebrow and studied him for a moment. "Yes," she answered, and both of them were a little surprised at her candor. "Now, what are these plans?"

Rhys stepped back from her, hoping the distance might help him keep his hands off of her. His eyes traveled over her body, taking in the flats on her feet, the simple summery dress on her frame, and the cardigan that was covering her shoulders. "Do you have all of your things? Maybe a light jacket?"

It was still summer, and the days were long and hot, but the evenings could get cool sometimes. His plans included a picnic basket, a large blanket, some good wine, and a spot by the river. Since there were no classes in session at the university in summer, Rhys was taking Feyre to a spot on campus where he knew they would have the place mostly to themselves. Perhaps not private enough to have his way with here...maybe…

"Is this okay?" Feyre grabbed another, larger sweater from the back of her office chair. "I keep it here when the air conditioning gets to be too much. It's all I have, though."

Rhys smiled at her nervousness. "That will be just fine." He reached out a hand for her, "let's get going."

As they left through the door of her office, stopping to shut off the floor lamp and the main lights, Rhys's amused voice sounded in the dim light. "Are you going to tell me about those flowers?"

Feyre groaned and Rhys chuckled. "Don't ask."

With a final click of the door, Rhys swept her out of the office. Neither of them noticed that Tamlin had been sitting in the reception area just outside, or that he had heard their entire conversation. No one, in fact, noticed the scowl on his face or the way his fists clenched and unclenched at his sides. Everyone else had gone home for the evening, so Tamlin was left to seethe alone.

* * *

The next morning, Feyre had barely set her things down at her desk before the door burst open and Leslie came into the room, a giant grin on her face. "Okay, girlfriend, spill! Who was that gorgeous man from last night? Is he the 'guy in your life'?"

Feyre laughed, plopping down into her desk chair as Leslie took a seat in an armchair. "Yes, that's Rhysand Seren."

If possible, Leslie's eyes grew even larger in her head. "Seren? As in Seren Construction?" At Feyre's nod, Leslie let out an appreciative whistle. "Damn girl. What a catch! How did you two meet?"

Feyre's smile became wistful as she remembered their first encounter when he'd brought over her take-out food. "We're neighbors. He and some of his friends rent the apartment across the hall from me. Do you know Velaris Estates? Those apartments."

Again, Leslie's eyes were comically large in her head. "Rents? Oh no, honey, Rhysand Seren doesn't rent Velaris Estates. He owns them."

Feyre choked on the sip of tea she'd just taken, scalding her mouth. She coughed for a few moments, trying to catch her breath and make sense of what Leslie had just said. "Rhys owns Velaris Estates? But...he's in construction."

Leslie laughed, reaching over Feyre's desk to pat the girl gently on her hand. "Rhys's family is also into real estate - they have a brokerage and development company. Those estates were built by his grandfather before Rhys was ever born, and they've been in his family ever since." Leslie sat back and fanned herself a little. "This whole city knows who Rhysand Seren is, my dear, and he is the finest catch in the land."

Feyre was a little stunned at this new revelation. She had known that Rhys's construction company was successful, and had even guessed that he was probably rich. But this…

"Why the hell does he live in those damn apartments if he's so rich?" She mused out loud, suddenly feeling embarrassed but not exactly sure why.

"Well, the gossip is that Rhys wanted nothing to do with Daddy's money. It's pretty well known that the two of them didn't get along at all. I don't even think Rhys was going to take over the construction company except that Mr. Seren died." Leslie excitedly gushed on, and Feyre felt slightly queasy.

How is it that Leslie, her coworker, seemed to know more about her...whatever he was...than Feyre? Really, Feyre wasn't quite sure what to do with all of this information, and she wasn't sure how she should feel. It wasn't like Rhys had outright lied to her, but still. This was a huge piece of information to leave out.

"Um, Feyre?" Startled, Feyre looked up to see Leslie giving her a concerned look. "Have I upset you?"

With a shake of her head, Feyre forced a smile. "No, not at all. I just have a lot on my brain today, I guess, and I should probably start getting ready for my first patient."

She stood and walked Leslie to the door, still trying to smile despite her spinning thoughts.

"Oh, okay. Well...I'll check in with you on your patient notes later in the day, before you go. I...are you sure you're okay?"

"Of course. Thanks for stopping by, Leslie. I'll see you later." As gently as she could, she shut the door in the other woman's face.


	13. Chapter 13

It had been difficult for Feyre to concentrate for most of the day, but she managed to keep her focus on her patients. In between appointments, she found herself thinking about Rhys and this new information. Could she be mad at him? He had left out a huge part of his life. But, most of the time they had spent together recently was taken up with other things...more physical ways of getting to know each other.

And, he had told her about his mother and sister and their tragic deaths, as well as the loss of his father. So it wasn't like he was keeping secrets. But still...the whole damn apartment building!

A knock at her door interrupted Feyre's spinning thoughts, and she bit back a frustrated sigh. "Yes?"

Tamlin stepped into the doorway, and Feyre tried to pretend she wasn't bothered by his presence.

"Hello, Feyre. Am I interrupting?"

"Not at all, please come in." She wasn't quite sure why her boss was here because she knew she didn't have any progress meetings scheduled. He was the boss though, so he could technically stop in any time he wanted.

"I…" he hesitated, and Feyre suddenly felt nervous. "I have a favor to ask, actually." His normal composure seemed to slip a little. He rubbed at the back of his head self consciously, ruffling his normally perfect blond hair. "I have a dinner meeting with the head of the Psychology department at the University. I was going to bring my colleague with me, but he's suddenly fallen ill and can't go. And, well, I was wondering if you would join me?"

Feyre's shock was sudden enough that she couldn't hide the surprise on her face. "You want me to join you?"

Tamlin straightened the lapels of his suit seeming to have regained some of his composure. "You're incredibly talented, Feyre. This meeting with the University is about expanding my practice, and I can't think of anyone better to be by my side."

Feyre sat back in her chair, staying behind her desk to keep distance from Tamlin. She had no desire to go to this meeting, despite Tamlin's praises about her talent. He made her uncomfortable and she wasn't quite sure why. She also felt like this was more than just a business dinner.

"Mr. LaFleur…"

"Tamlin," he interjected, giving her another bright smile.

"Tamlin," she started again, "I am flattered, really, but I can't."

His smile dimmed a little, and the features of his face darkened. "It would be a great favor to me, Feyre." He seemed to hesitate a little before adding, "and it could be a wonderful opportunity for you, too. The University has a prestigious psychology department."

Thoughts were reeling through Feyre's head and she really had no idea how to get out of this. She had no desire to go, but she was also worried about her position at this practice if she pissed off the boss. Before she could form another word, a loud knock sounded on the door frame and Leslie's head poked around the corner.

"Ready to go over those patient notes?" The brunette stepped into the room and her eyes widened when she saw Tamlin, "Oh, I'm sorry. I can come back…"

"No!" Feyre stood, quickly crossing the small room and grabbing Leslie by the arm. "No, you're actually coming at the perfect time." Feyre turned back toward Tamlin and pulled Leslie into the room. "Tamlin was just telling me about his predicament tonight. He needs a plus one for a business dinner with the University."

"Feyre-" he tried to cut her off, but Feyre kept going, plastering a smile on her face.

"Mr. LaFleur, Tamlin, Leslie is one of the only reasons I still have my wits about me. She has been such an incredible mentor and friend to me - she's the talent in this office, really. She would be a much better date that I would, surely."

Leslie's cheeks turned pink with the praise, but Feyre watched Tamlin's face. She'd put him in a tough place - tell Leslie that she wasn't good enough to go, or lie and say he didn't actually need a date for tonight. She was banking on the fact that he was too much of a gentleman to do anything that would offend Leslie.

Feyre decided to give it one more push. "Leslie would certainly make an impression on anyone at the University, and as you said, this could be a wonderful opportunity for the clinic."

Sensing his defeat, Tamlin let out a small sigh but he gave a gracious smile to Leslie. "Feyre is right, you are a dedicated employee and I would be happy to have your company."

"Oh! Of course, I...do I have time to go home and change? Should I...where…"

Tamlin held up a hand to stop Leslie's babbling. "Dinner is at seven. If you meet me here at six thirty, we can drive over together." He gave another imploring look at Feyre. "You could come too, Ms. Archeron."

Feyre pretended to think about it, hoping the relief didn't show on her face. "Oh, no, thank you. My sisters are coming over this evening." She smiled at Leslie, who was still standing there in shock. "Should we go over my notes now, so you can go home to get ready?"

The mention of notes and work seemed to break everyone from their trance, and Tamlin gave the ladies a terse goodbye before striding out the door. Feyre let out a breath and Leslie fanned herself with her hand, eyes wide. "What the hell just happened?"

Slouching over to her armchairs, Feyre plopped down and motioned for Leslie to join her. "He just asked me out to dinner. I panicked."

The brunette laughed, "Damn, girl. You've got hot rich men throwing themselves all over you." She sobered up a little, looking at Feyre thoughtfully. "It could have just been a business dinner like he said."

"I know...but…" Feyer glanced at the door, noticing it was closed. "He gives me the creeps."

Leslie laughed again, dismissing her fears with a wave. "I think you're just caught up in Mr. Seren. No worries - I'll be happy to distract Tamlin for you." The woman's grin was wicked. "Now, let's go over those notes, shall we?"

* * *

Feyre had never been so happy to see the door to her apartment before. She was tired and confused, and it had been a really long day. Despite the excitement of her afternoon, as soon as Leslie had left her office, Feyre's thoughts had gone back to their conversation from earlier in the day.

Rhys was the owner of an entire apartment complex. In fact, he owned a huge portion of the city. Her curiosity had gotten the best of her, so she had done some internet searching on her lunch break. The results were pretty shocking. There were stories about Rhys's father and grandfather. Articles about properties they owned, buildings they had constructed, and a few that mentioned the net-worth of the Seren family. It was a number a little too large for Feyre to wrap her brain around.

She just wasn't sure what to do with all of this information. It changed things, didn't it?

But...then...maybe it didn't. The time she had spent with Rhys was nearly magical. He made her feel alive, and it wasn't as if he'd been keeping everything secret; there was probably a very good reason he hadn't told her about being rich.

In fact, now that she thought of it, it made a lot of sense. Rhys didn't seem to her the type to flaunt anything, except maybe that body of his. He was certainly not shy in that regard.

With a sigh, she stepped into her apartment, dropping her things in the entryway and heading for the kitchen.

"Hello, Feyre darling."

"Mother above!" She jumped, dropping her phone and clutching at her frantically beating heart. "Rhys! Why the hell do you insist on breaking into my apartment and scaring the crap out of me?!" She was suddenly aware of the incredible smells wafting over from the stovetop and the wooden spoon in his hands.

He arched a dark eyebrow, his violet eyes dancing. "Lovely to see you, too. My day was wonderful, how was yours?"

Feyre huffed, crossing her arms over her chest. "You're the one sneaking into my apartment and you're going to pretend that I'm being rude?"

Rhys did say anything, instead turning to scoop something from the pan behind him and then holding up the spoon for Feyre to taste. She gave him a scowl but stepped forward and took the bite he was offering.

"You're lucky you're a good cook, Mr. Seren. Or else I would have to call security."

"Is that the only reason you're not kicking me out? My cooking?" She wasn't quite sure why, but she loved the devilish look that he was currently sending her way.

"Obviously I keep you around for your cock, too." And she loved, even more, the shocked drop of his jaw as she sauntered out of the kitchen.

"Wicked thing," he called after her, chuckling. "How was your day?"

Feyre changed out of her work clothes, slipping into a pair of leggings and an oversized t-shirt. The best part of getting home was taking off her bra, although if Rhys kept up this habit of sneaking in and feeding her…

"It was good," she answered as she came back into the kitchen, happily taking the offered wine glass. "I narrowly avoided a dinner invitation, which was incredibly awkward."

Rhys glanced in her direction. "Oh? Should I be jealous?"

She smirked. "Maybe." He snarled playfully, and Feyre laughed. "No. Remember those terribly gaudy flowers? Tamlin sent those, and tonight he wanted me to go to a business dinner with him. He's meeting with the University, the psychology department, and his original date bailed." Rhys watched her carefully but said nothing. "I managed to get him to take Leslie instead, but it was a close thing."

Rhys's eyes were dark and unreadable. "This Tamlin seems to be getting a little...presumptuous, isn't he?"

Feyre shrugged, sipping her wine. "I want to think it's just because he's an overly friendly boss. I mean, the flowers were basically welcoming me to the practice, and the dinner tonight was business. But still…"

Rhys pushed off the edge of the counter where he'd been leaning, pulling the glass from Feyre's hands and setting it on the counter. His hands gripped her hips gently as he tugged her close. His eyes locked on hers, and he took in the freckles across her nose, the blush on her cheeks, and the slight tilt to her lips as she stared up at him. His mind was full of things he would like to say to her, but instead, he pressed his lips to hers and let his kisses speak for themselves.

She was the first to pull back, sucking in a deep breath. Her blue eyes were heavy-lidded, and she licked her lips slowly as she traced her hands over his shoulders and down his back. "Is dinner almost ready?"

"It's ready now. Shall we eat?"

This time, Feyre smirked. "How well does this dish reheat?"

Rhys let out a growl. He slid his hands down over her backside, lifting her up so she could wrap her legs around his waist. He managed to turn off the stove burner and move the pan before he carried her down the hall and into her room.

With a feral grin, he strode past the bed and out onto the balcony.

Later, when he had thoroughly explored Feyre's body and they were both drowsy and sated, he left Feyre in a nest of pillows and went to fix them some plates of food. While he was in the kitchen, he grabbed his cell phone and sent Azriel a text, asking him to do some digging into a Tamlin LaFleur. Just in case.


	14. Chapter 14

Rhys stood on the newly set pavers his crew had recently finished, staring up at the construction before him. The new University building was nearly complete, and they were on the last few cosmetic touches - landscaping, interior design, cleaning up. It had been a long project, one of the biggest ones that Rhys had headed, and he was happy to see it coming to a successful close. There would be a ribbon cutting in a few weeks, and it looked as though everything would be right on schedule.

"The boys are finished with the painting inside, so tomorrow the light fixtures and furniture can start to go in. Mor talked with the shipping company today. We should be getting the trucks tomorrow morning." Cassian moved in to stand next to Rhys, surveying their work. "Even with your vacation, we still managed to pull it off." The larger man grinned over at his best friend.

"Vacation? I broke multiple bones in my foot. I hardly call that a vacation."

If possible, Cassian's grin got bigger. "And had Feyre _darling_ to nurse you back to health."

Rhys's eyes narrowed, but then a matching grin lit his face. "Well, yes, my foot was broken not my co-"

"Hard at work, gentlemen?" Azriel's voice was loud as he talked over the crude remark that was about to come out of Rhys's mouth.

Cassian laughed and slapped Az on the back. "Delicate ears, Azzy?" Azriel's reply was a raised eyebrow and a vulgar hand gesture, to which Cassian laughed even harder. "I'm going to make one last sweep through the building. Beers later, boys?"

Rhys nodded, waving him off. When Cassian was out of earshot, Azriel handed a folder over to Rhys. "I'm not sure what you were looking for, but I didn't find much on our flowery friend."

Rhys tucked the folder under his arm, gesturing for Azriel to continue. "He's been the director of the clinic for seven years now, and that's been a very successful venture. Some bad reviews, but mostly by the patients who are not going voluntarily. No family in the area to speak of - parents both died in a car accident some time ago - and there was very little about his brothers. He has some credit card debt, but that's really all the dirt I could find. He lives alone, and there don't seem to be any lady friends in his life. He might like tacky, expensive suits, but that's about all."

Rhys glanced at Azriel, dipping his head. "I wasn't expecting anything really. I just want to know who Feyre is working for. He seems to have taken a liking to Ms. Archeron."

Azriel made a noise in the back of his throat. "Be careful, Rhys."

"I'm not worried about Tamlin LaFleur."

A dark chuckle came from his friend. "No, you wouldn't be. But you should be worried about Feyre and what she's going to do to you when she finds out you've been snooping."

Rhys gave Azriel a long stare. "Technically, you've been doing the snooping." This elicited another laugh from the man next to him. "And she won't find out, because neither of us is going to say anything."

Clearing his throat, Azriel held back his laugh and nodded. "Want me to keep digging?"

Rhys shook his head. "No, thank you." He handed the folder back to Azriel. "Can you drop this by the office on your way out? I'm going to find Cassian and then we'll meet you at Rita's."

Azriel offered Rhys a salute and walked off.

Rhys grabbed his phone, smiling as he fired off a text to Feyre, and then he made his way inside the building.

* * *

 _Miss me, Feyre darling?_

The text flashed on her phone, and Feyre couldn't help the smile that pulled at her lips.

"I am so jealous of you, Fey." Leslie sat in one of the armchairs in Feyre's office, her shoes off and feet tucked underneath her.

Broken from her thoughts, Feyre glanced over at her co-worker and friend. "Jealous?"

Leslie rolled her eyes. "I'm sure that smile on your face is because of tall-dark-and-handsome, who, I'm guessing, just texted you something naughty. And I had to sit through the most boring dinner of my life. My fantasies about Tamlin have been ruined because of you!"

"First of all, it was not naughty. And secondly, dinner was that bad?" Feyre set her phone down and joined Leslie in the other chair. Their work was done for the day and they had just finished with Feyre's case notes. Now they were exchanging some girly gossip and unwinding after a long day.

"It was terrible. I mean, Tamlin was a gentleman, obviously, but...so boring!" Leslie sighed dramatically. "I had visions of being swept off my feet, but instead it was more like my feet fell asleep because of how long we sat at that dinner table. The men talked business and I sat there like a pretty lump on a log. I don't even know why I was there."

Feyre gave her an apologetic smile. "Sorry, Les. I owe you a drink."

The other girl eyed her carefully. "Honestly, I don't think Tamlin needed a date. He was just using that as an excuse to ask you out."

"Cauldron, no. That's not true." Feyre had a sinking feeling that Leslie might be right, but she wasn't about to entertain those thoughts. It would just make work too uncomfortable.

Leslie made a sound of disbelief. "Well, anyway, I got a free meal out of it."

"Speaking of, a group of us are going to Rita's for dinner and drinks tonight. You're more than welcome to join us, and I do owe you so drinks are on me."

There was a twinkle in Leslie's eyes as she asked, "Will Rhys be there?"

Feyre nodded.

"And does he have any friends? Perhaps some who are equally tall-dark-and-handsome?"

This time, Feyre grinned. "Cassian and Azriel will be there, as well as few guys from the construction company. I'm sure you'll enjoy looking at all of them."

"I'm in."

"They're all quite...brutish though." Feyre amended, not really sure Leslie knew what she was getting into. "And they eat entirely too much food."

Her friend just laughed in response.

* * *

Rita's was packed, as usual, except it seemed to be mostly the people with Rhys and Feyre. At least six men had come from the construction site along with Cassian and Azriel, Mor had brought a few of her friends and Genevieve, and Leslie was with Feyre. If the bar had been packed with other people before, they were gone now because of the noise being created by the very drunk group. Rita, at least, loved Rhys, so she kept the drinks flowing and didn't mind the noise. That and Cassian was a really good tipper when he was drunk.

Feyre pulled Rhys off of the dance floor, in need of something to drink and a chance to catch her breath. Apparently, when his foot wasn't broken, Rhys Seren was quite the dance partner. Although, Feyre would have guessed that, based on the _other_ things Rhys was good at.

"Enjoying yourself, Feyre darling?"

She took a long swallow of water, trying to cool herself down. "Yes, I am." She finished the glass and set it down on the table, moving to wrap her arms around Rhys. "Are you?"

His mouth quirked in a grin. "I could watch you dance all night." He clutched her more tightly against him, dropping his mouth to her neck and playfully nipping at her soft skin. "And yet, there are quite a few other things I could think of watching you do that would be much more...exciting."

If her face hadn't already been flushed, her cheeks would be turning pink. She gave Rhys a half-hearted glare, but she didn't really mean it. Gazing up at his violet eyes, she wondered if this fire would ever burn out. Being around him made her feel heady and warm, a feeling she had never experienced before. It was intense and comforting at the same time. And judging by the twinkle in those shocking eyes of his, Feyre bet that Rhys was feeling something similar. Standing on her tip-toes, she leaned up to catch his mouth in a kiss.

"You two are so cute!" Leslie broke the couple apart, throwing her arm around Feyre's shoulder. "Honestly, Fey, how do you manage to get all the hot men to fawn after you?" Her words came out slowly and slightly slurred, a testament to the large quantities of alcohol she'd consumed.

"Leslie, how many drinks have you had?"

The brunette held up a hand in an attempt to count, but she just ended up bending the same two fingers over and over. "Seven?" the number came out as more of a question, "I don't remember what else I had after those shots I took with Morgan."

"Morrigan?" There was an amused tone to Rhys's voice.

"Yes! I love her!" Leslie took her free arm, the one that wasn't looped around Feyre's shoulder, and attempted to grab Rhys and pull him in. "I am so happy you invited me out tonight!" Her arm slipped from Rhys's too tall frame and she tottered a little, Feyre barely catching the girl before she fell.

"Rhys? Could you keep her company while I go get her some water?"

His smirk held back his laughter. "I think that might be best."

When Feyre left, Rhys guided Leslie into a chair so she wasn't in danger of falling again and pulled up a seat next to her. He watched as her eyes widened a little before she shut them tightly and tried to stop swaying.

"I swear I'm not usually such a lush." It was obvious she was trying her best not to slur. "I just don't get out much. Except for that dinner the other night, but that was so boooring! Feyre's lucky she got out of it."

"Dinner?"

"Yup. Tamlin really wanted Feyre to go. He's totally got the hots for her." Her eyes grew wide again as she looked at Rhys. "He got her flowers and everything! But Feyre is in love with you, so she made me go to dinner instead. Boooooring!"

Rhys didn't usually get himself get flustered, and he knew that Leslie was incredibly drunk, but he found this new information to be a bit unnerving on two accounts. First, he did not miss the fact that Leslie had said Feyre was in love with him. Obviously, she was drunk, but the thought still made his heart thud loudly in his chest. And then there was the bit about Tamlin. He knew that the man had made a few advances toward Feyre, she had shared those things with him, but he was liking the man even less the more he heard. Rhys was not generally a person to get possessive, but he really didn't like the thought of Tamlin lusting over Feyre.

"Oh! Fey, you're back!" Leslie gratefully gulped the offered water glass, belching loudly when she was done. "Excuse me!" She shook her head as if she were trying to shake off a bad thought. "I am so sorry. I think I'm making a fool of myself."

Feyre and Rhys exchanged a smile. "I think we should probably call a cab for her."

Rhys nodded, standing and pulling Feyre into his arms. Not caring that they were surrounded by all of their friends, he clutched her to him and kissed her thoroughly. Her fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt and she sighed into his mouth, making Rhys wish they were back at the apartment and not in a crowded space. Finally, he pulled away and grinned at the dazed look on Feyre's face. "I'll go call that cab for Leslie."

"Mmmm," was all he got in reply as he walked away.

Leslie let out a small whine, "you lucky bitch."

Feyre laughed, plopping down into the seat that Rhys had been sitting in. "Don't think I didn't see the way that you and Tarquin were dancing together."

The other girl nodded sagely. "Yes, but I know I'm too drunk so I had to leave him before I did something really stupid. And I think maybe leaving him was stupid." She leaned forward, her elbows on her knees, and clutched her head in her hands. "I can't believe I let myself get this bad."

Carefully, Feyre rubbed circles on Leslie's back. "We'll get you home and you can sleep it off. And if it makes you feel better, I'll pretend this never happened when I see you at work on Monday."

Leslie managed to laugh. "You're the best."

"Leslie's cab is out front," Rhys and Azriel appeared in front of the two women holding their purses and sweaters. "Shall we go?"

It took a moment, but Feyre was able to get Leslie standing and moving toward the door. Remembering the last time she had gotten completely drunk and ended up puking while Rhys held her hair, Feyre opted to not drink tonight. Trying to keep Leslie moving in a straight line made Feyre happy that she had made that decision. She was also looking forward to being able to enjoy this evening with Rhys and not waking up with a terrible hangover in the morning. It had been a while since they'd been able to spend the night together, and Feyre was a little desperate to get her hands on any and all parts of Rhys. She wanted to be able to enjoy it without the haze of alcohol.

Rhys and Azriel walked behind the two, saying their goodbyes as they made their way out the door. When Rhys was sure that Feyre and Leslie were far enough ahead, he turned toward his friend. "I'd like you to do some more digging into Mr. LaFleur. He makes me uneasy, and I want to know all of his dirty little secrets."

The look on Azriel's face was purposefully blank because he knew that this was probably not a good moment to smile. He did, however, offer Rhys a nod and a goodnight before they parted ways and he slipped into the night. Rhys had many connections in his life because of both the construction company and the real estate business, and Azriel handled so much of the businesses that those connections had become his own. It would not take much for Azriel to dig deeper into Tamlin's life, and if there was something to be found, Rhys was sure that Az would find it.

Realizing he had fallen behind, he picked up his pace and caught up to Feyre, helping her get Leslie situated in the cab, paying the fare and giving the driver directions.

"Do you want a cab, too, Feyre darling?"

The night air was warm but comfortable, a stark contrast to the stifling heat of Rita's dance floor and bar. Drawing in a deep breath, Feyre exhaled, "let's walk."

"As you wish." He intertwined their fingers and together they strolled down the sidewalk and toward home.

The night was beautiful and the stars were bright in the inky black above them. The city was alive with light and sound and people, but as they walked down streets and toward home, Feyre and Rhys felt as if they were the only two people in the world.

* * *

AN: Thank you all for your wonderful reviews and for sticking with me! This chapter was a bit of filler, but I promise things will be picking up soon :) I started this story with one direction in mind, and then, as I started writing it, the story went in a totally different direction, which caused a bit of a brain fart when it came to updating. I have my outline now, and I know exactly where this is going, so you can expect more regular updates. Again - thank you so much for reading!


	15. Chapter 15

Monday morning came all too soon, and Feyre slapped angrily at the snooze button on her alarm as it went off for the third time. She growled, rolling over and attempted to cover her head with the blankets.

"You're going to be late." The smooth silk of Rhys's voice usually had Feyre smiling, but this morning she was too tired and grumpy to be sweet-talked. "I made you tea," he purred, and at that, Feyre perked up.

He smirked as she reached for the steaming mug, taking a sip before she felt she could respond. "Do you ever spend time in your apartment anymore?"

"You're welcome, Feyre darling. Shall I start the shower for you, too?"

This time, she smirked. "I'll take that as a 'no.'" She took another long sip of tea - made perfectly, she had to admit - and climbed out of bed. "You can start the shower, as long as you plan to join me."

His grin was sharp and smoldering, "But you'll be late…"

Feyre sauntered into the bathroom, turning to look over her shoulder and throw an equally fiery look in his direction, "Not if you hurry."

In a flash, his hands were on her hips and she let out a squeal as he whisked her into the bathroom.

* * *

"Rhys, you really didn't have to walk me to work today. I'm sure you have things to do at the construction site."

Reaching over to grab Feyre's hand, Rhys tucked it into the crook of his elbow as they walked along. "This is the only thing I need to be doing right now," he simply said. It wasn't the truth, but he wasn't about to tell her that.

The day was beautiful, blue skies and the sun shining brightly. The streets were filled with people moving from here to there, going about their days. Feyre found it slightly odd that Rhys was walking her to work - she didn't believe his line that he didn't have anything else to do - but she wasn't going to pass up the chance to spend a little more time with him.

Before long they arrived at the clinic, but instead of leaving her at the door, as she expected, Rhys came in with her. "I'll walk you to your office," he said, keeping her arm tucked in his. Much to her embarrassment, most of the other staff members turned to watch the two of them as they made their way toward Feyre's office. She wasn't sure she liked being the center of attention, but then again, most of the eyes were trained on Rhys, male and female alike. He was quite the sight for sore eyes.

When they reached her door, Rhys spun her quickly, capturing her lips in a searing kiss that had her seeing stars and clutching him for balance. It lasted a moment or two longer than was appropriate, and it wasn't until someone loudly cleared their throat that Rhys pulled back.

To Feyre's horror, it was Tamlin. "Good morning Ms. Archeron." His eyes were hard and almost unreadable.

"Oh, Mr. LaFleur…" Feyre resisted the urge to reach up and flatten down her hair or wipe at her kiss-swollen lips. Before she could attempt to explain herself or introduce Rhys, he stepped forward and slightly in front of her.

"Is there a problem, Mr...Lavoie, was it?" Rhys's voice was dripping with something Feyre had never heard before, and she was almost at a loss for words. "I apologize if Feyre was late for work. She and I were...detained…" the suggestiveness in his voice was completely obvious and the grin he gave Tamling was laced with poison.

At that, Feyre found her voice. "Rhysand!" she seethed, stepping out from behind him. "I'm sorry, Tamlin. Rhys must have hit his head on our way over here. Otherwise, he wouldn't be so incredibly rude."

Rhy's dark chuckle didn't do anything to quell her embarrassment and rising anger. "I'm sure _Tamlin_ knows what I mean," and he wrapped his arm around Feyre's waist, bringing her into his body.

It was all she could do to keep from making a scene, or more of a scene, in her place of work. With brutal force, she crushed Rhys's fingers in her own, putting on as sweet a smile as she could muster. With effort, she schooled her voice. "Rhysand, this is Tamlin LaFleur, my boss and the director of the clinic. He's been helping me get settled in the office and my new role as counselor. _I wouldn't have a job if it weren't for him."_ The last sentence was said between clenched teeth as Rhys extracted his victimized fingers.

"Feyre, darling," he said smoothly, "why didn't you say so? I'm Rhysand Seren." Rhys extended a hand to the silent Tamlin, who had said nothing during this entire exchange. It seemed as if the entire office held their collective breath as the seconds stretched longer while Rhys's hand hovered in the air.

Finally, Tamlin shook with him.

The tension in the room was palpable, and everyone was trying to look like they weren't watching. Of course, they all were.

"Is there anything you need before your first client, Feyre?" Tamlin's eyes were still cold, but they softened slightly when he turned to Feyre. But Rhys stepped in before she could answer him.

"She's fine, Terry. I'm more than capable of taking care of her." He reached to pull Feyre into his side again, but she moved out of his reach and sent an imploring look at her boss.

"No, thank you. I'll just say goodbye to Rhys." She opened her office door and glared at Rhys. He smirked again at Tamlin before sauntering into the room. It was all Feyre could do to not slam the door. "What the hell was that?" She seethed.

Rhys crossed his arms, his dark eyes swirling with something she couldn't read. "I don't know what you mean, Feyre darling."

"You might as tattoo your name across my forehead if you needed to mark your territory that badly! I cannot believe you just did that to my _boss!_ " She picked up the paperweight from her desk and contemplated throwing it at his smirking face, but she didn't want to damage her office. "I thought you were better than that."

"I didn't like the way he was looking at you."

Feyre saw red. "Oh, you mean like a territorial bastard? You mean making me look like some simpering idiot girlfriend in front of my entire office? Was that how he was looking at me?"

He had the intelligence to look slightly ashamed, but Rhys didn't back down. "You. Are. Mine."

This time, she did throw the paperweight. Rhys caught it inches from his face and let out a growl. "And a bigger man wouldn't need to prove that to every other male within a ten-mile radius. A bigger man would be confident enough in me."

"You've mentioned that he makes you uncomfortable, and Leslie has told me how much he fawns over you. I wanted to see for myself, and I think you should be careful."

Suddenly, it dawned on her. "Is that why you wanted to walk me to work today? Why you insisted on coming here? To check out the competition?" She started to pace slightly, her heart racing with outrage and disbelief. "Don't you trust me to take care of myself?"

At that, his face did soften a touch. He moved toward her, hands held up in surrender. "I'm sorry. Of course, I trust you." Carefully, gently, he reached for her, cupping her face in his hand. "I just...Feyre…I can't stand to think about anything happening to you, or anyone making you uncomfortable. Really...I think I'm fall-"

A knock sounded on the door and cut Rhys off.

"Feyre, it's your first appointment." Leslie's voice called through the door.

With a sigh, Feyre took Rhys's hands off of her face and dropped them. "This isn't done, and you're not out of the dog house yet." She pointed toward the door. "You need to go."

"I'll see you at home tonight, then." And he left.

* * *

With all of the effort she had, Feyre managed to focus on her caseload. She owed it to her patients to be as present as possible, and she was so mortified by what had happened that she hadn't wanted to leave her office and face the rest of her coworkers.

But then there was a knock on the door.

When Tamlin poked his head in, Feyre felt her cheeks immediately go red. "Do you have a moment, Feyre?"

She stood, smoothing down her skirt. "Of course. Mr. LaFleur, I -"

"Tamlin, please. Unless that's too informal for you…"

Feyre tried to smile. "Tamlin. I am so sorry about this morning. I don't really know what that was, and I can promise that it won't happen again."

Tamlin took a seat in one of the armchairs and motioned for Feyre to do the same. "I'll admit I was a little surprised. But I was more concerned about you. Mr. Seren seemed...aggressive."

Again, her cheeks heated. "He was being territorial, but he's harmless. I promise."

Tamlin smiled, his green eyes were much softer than they had been this morning. "I trust you know yourself. But, if you ever need my help...with anything...please know I'm here for you."

"Thank you." She laughed a little, "I thought you might be coming in here to reprimand me or fire me, or something."

"Not my best and brightest psychologist. Although, I did consider hiring security after this morning."

When his smile was directed her way, Feyre had to admit that Tamlin was rather handsome, even if she thought he was slightly creepy. And then a pair of violet eyes invaded her mind reminding her of this morning and how incredibly out of line he had been. It didn't matter that Tamlin was obviously interested in her and had made a few advances. She had made it clear she wasn't interested and there was no need for that testosterone-filled show this morning.

"...this weekend?" Tamlin finished, and Feyre realized that she had been caught up in her thoughts and hadn't heard a word he had said.

It felt like she was forever blushing. "I'm sorry, can you say that again."

"I was just wondering if you had given any more thought to the company barbecue this weekend."

"Oh," she hadn't, but she wasn't about to admit that to her boss. "I'm still not sure, but I will definitely consider it."

Tamlin stood, giving her another charming smile. "It would be my honor to have you join us."

"Thank you. I will let you know."

With a small wave, he left her to her thoughts.

* * *

Rhys had almost locked his phone in his desk so he wouldn't be tempted to text or call Feyre. He needed to have it for work, so he kept it on him, but it took most of his will power to leave it in his pocket.

He was kicking himself for how incredibly stupid he'd been this morning. Really, he had no idea what had come over him. Perhaps it was the way Tamlin had been leering at Feyre when they had walked in the office together or the things that Leslie had told him that night at Rita's. Whatever it was, a near-blinding rage had come over him and he wanted to make it clear that she was his. That she had chosen him.

But he knew it had been a mistake.

Of course she was pissed off. Of course she was embarrassed. He'd made quite the spectacle in front of her entire office, and she had every right to be furious with him. And then he had almost confessed that he was in love with her…

Really, how dumb could he be?

Quietly, Azriel stepped up to Rhys's side and gave him a knowing look. "What did you do?"

Rhys turned his violet eyes on his best friend and glared. "Something incredibly stupid and pig-headed."

"Well, I thought that would have happened long before now, so I would say you're doing pretty well." Azriel quipped, and he laughed when Rhys threw a vulgar gesture in his direction.

"That's not helping." With a sigh, Rhys told Azriel what had happened this morning. As he talked, a dark look came over Azriel's face and Rhys was suddenly worried. "What? What did you find out?"

From seemingly nowhere, Azriel produced a folder and handed it to his brother. "I did more digging as you asked, and I think you're right to be worried about Mr. LaFleur." He pointed to one of the papers that Rhys was looking over and explained, "That clinic has an interesting financial history, as does Tamlin. There are numbers there that don't match, so I had some people I know dig a little deeper." He paused, and Rhys nearly growled with impatience. "It seems that Tamlin has ties with some of the more unsavory characters in this city and that his business is into blackmailing patients."

Rhys's eyes turned sharply to the man next to him. "Blackmail?"

Azriel nodded. "Most of the patients that go there are court-appointed. It's part of their probation or parole. It looks like LaFleur and his compatriots are forcing them to sell drugs or make deals for them, or else Tamlin will report them to the courts and they'll face jail time."

Rhys swore fiercely.

"That's not all."

"There's more?"

Again, Azriel nodded. "The files had been sealed, but I know someone in the courts who took a peek for me." Again, Rhys growled for him to hurry up. "There have been three different assault charges brought against Tamlin in the last two years. All women. All settled out of court."

The fear and rage that course through Rhys's body was blinding, and he reached out a hand to Azriel to help him stay upright. This changed everything. He couldn't possibly let Feyre stay at that clinic, but he also knew that she wouldn't listen to anything he had to say after the stunt he pulled this morning. If she found out that he had asked Azriel to spy on Tamlin, too, she would most likely stop speaking to him.

"I'm fucked," he said at last.

"What do you want me to do?"

Rhys shook his head, "I don't know." He ran a hand through his hair, fighting all of his instincts to rush over to Feyre's office and sweep her into his arms and out of there. "She's so pissed at me for this morning, I can't imagine she'll even believe this."

Azriel stared off into the distance for a moment, looking toward the construction site but not really seeing it. "There might be a way to take him down quietly. I could use some of my contacts to tip off the right people into looking into the financials of the clinic. It might take a while, though."

Another colorful profanity slipped from Rhys's mouth. "And in the meantime, she'll be working with the bastard every day. Like sending her into the den of the enemy." He sighed, feeling too heavy with this new knowledge. He turned to his brother and best friend and nodded. "Get things started. Keep me updated."


End file.
